Scarred Prejudice
by M.R.H.I
Summary: After disappearing for 7 years, Draco returns... straight into Harry's arms literally . Harry takes a very different Draco Malfoy into his care, and realizes that he's also taken in more troubles than just an introvert ex-rival. Dom!Harry, Sub!Draco
1. Prologue: A Wintry Night with You and Me

**Title**: Scarred Prejudice  
**Rating**: R unless otherwise stated  
**Category**: Romance/Angst/FLUFF  
**Pairing**: Harry/Draco  
**Summary**: Due to the course of mysterious events Draco was never seen or heard of after fifth year. Now, seven years later, Harry, a very successful owner of a financial firm finds him on the street, being chased by suspicious men and bleeding into unconsciousness. Unable to leave him alone, Harry takes Draco into his care, but to his surprise, the blond has become a very submissive, introvert character that can't remember the seven years of his disappearance. Seized by determination Harry refuses to let Draco forget, but there is always a price to pay for everything. Dominant!Harry, _Really_Submissive!Draco, so beware!  
**A/N**: Righto, er... here's a new H/D fic. Read it and review to let me know if you like it, not like it, or just review

Yay! Curious Dream Weaver is my beta for this ficcy, too! And she's an awesome beta. You should all go and hug her :huggles Dream Weaver:

**Prologue - A Wintry Night with You and Me**

It was on a winter evening that Harry saw the change in his monotonous and restless life.

It was very cold that day, since there was going to be a storm coming later in the night. Snow fell endlessly, the white crystals contrasting sharply against the busy night street. Rubbing his gloved hands together, Harry Potter glanced up into the sky, giving a deep sigh that was made visible by the biting cold.

It seemed that Christmas this year would be like every other - confined in his empty house with only himself and a bottle of whiskey as his faithful companion through the night.

His best friends - Ron and Hermione, married with two kids - were on vacation to Hawaii for the whole winter and New Year, and since Harry didn't feel like intruding into other family's time, he decided that it was best to be alone.

Alone... such a bitterly familiar word, like acid on the tip of his tongue, hissing and burning with an aching he knew only too well. It had been so long since his last relationship, which didn't last because his lover wasn't _right_. It seemed horribly childish and unrealistic, but Harry knew that until he met that someone that was made _just for him_, he would never be completely satisfied, even with thousands of women surrounding him. With that thought in mind and the belief that he'd never find his soul mate, Harry accepted the fact that he was going to be alone for the rest of his wretched, desolated life.

Unbeknownst to Harry, in just any moment now his life would no longer be the same as it was before.

He could feel the harsh bite of the wind against his pale skin, the thin clothes he wore offering no protection against the elements. Puffs of air appeared continuously before him as he ran, and he fervently wished that the footsteps behind him would just stop, because he couldn't run anymore. His muscles screamed in protest, his sides hurting, even as he felt himself slowing down. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that if he stopped now, all of his efforts would have been in vain.

"Agh," he gasped, breaking out of the darkness of the narrow valley and into the arms of a stranger.

"What the...?" he heard the other man said in surprise, catching him around the waist.

"Help... me... please..." he whispered hoarsely. Fatigue and pain were lulling him into oblivion, and he finally gave in with gratefulness.

When a blond boy ran out of nowhere and fell into his arms, Harry was immensely surprised. He was wearing only a long, thin cotton shirt, and he was bleeding profusely, which sent Harry into panic, but that was completely forgotten when he saw two men coming out of the place where the boy had appeared, both holding guns.

Needing no explanation, Harry took out his own gun and pointed at them. "Don't take a step closer," he warned, tightening his finger on the trigger.

They backed away, startled. The men in black looked as if they weren't sure what to do, but when they looked at Harry properly, one of them exclaimed, "It's Harry Potter!"

The other one turned around and his eyes widened.

Harry didn't know exactly what was going on, but he nearly doubled over when the two men bowed to him and said, "Of course, I understand." Then they disappeared into the darkness.

Confused at their odd behavior, Harry returned his attention to the unconscious boy in his arms. Putting the gun back in its holster, Harry gently brushed the blood stained blond hair away from the other's face, and gave an audible gasp.

The boy was Draco Malfoy, the person who vanished without a trace seven years ago.

_To Be Continued in_

**Chapter 1 - A Blooming Flower on the Edge of my Sanity**


	2. Chapter 1: A Blooming Flower

**Title**: Scarred Prejudice  
**Rating**: R unless otherwise stated  
**Category**: Romance/Angst/FLUFF  
**Pairing**: Harry/Draco  
**Summary**: Due to the course of mysterious events Draco was never seen or heard of after fifth year. Now, seven years later, Harry, a very successful owner of a financial firm finds him on the street, being chased by suspicious men and bleeding into unconsciousness. Unable to leave him alone, Harry takes Draco into his care, but to his surprise, the blond has become a very submissive, introvert character that can't remember the seven years of his disappearance. Seized by determination Harry refuses to let Draco forget, but there is always a price to pay for everything. Dominant!Harry, _Really_Submissive!Draco, so beware!

**A/N**: First and foremost, many hugs and kisses to Dream Weaver :) And of course, hugs and kisses to my readers also! Thank y'all for reading! (I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the reviews I got for the prologue... I mean, it's the prologue! No one cares! But you guys did, and I thank you so much :D) That's all. Read on, people!  
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

**Chapter 1 - A Blooming Flower on the Edge of my Sanity**

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Waking up felt like surfacing from the water, Draco subconsciously thought as he jerked up from the bed and let out a terrified scream.

In a matter of seconds the door to the right of him crashed open and in came a very flustered man.

"What's going on?" the stranger asked, green eyes looking around the room in alarm as he walked closer to the bed.

Draco looked at him curiously, a familiar emotion settling in his heart. It felt like he had seen this person before, long ago, when he wasn't...

Abruptly tears began falling from his eyes, and unable to do anything to stop them Draco could only let them flow.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Harry was shocked and a bit scared when he saw Draco crying. The situation was getting stranger and stranger. Draco Malfoy in his room... _crying_...

"Um, hey," Harry said awkwardly, sitting down on the bed. Vaguely he saw Draco flinch, but dismissed it as a natural reaction for someone in an unfamiliar environment. "Er..." Harry mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but the last time he tried to comfort someone, she had slapped his face and run away. Harry grimaced. If Draco slapped him now, he wasn't sure if he would be kind enough not to strike back.

So not knowing what to do, Harry just sat there and let him cry.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Eyes raw and throat sore, Draco gratefully accepted Harry's cup of water with a quiet thank you, in which Harry replied with a startled look of disbelief.

Sitting down next to the bed, Harry had a better view of Draco now. Last night, when he took Draco home, he was too busy fixing his injuries up to really notice anything, but now, in the bright daylight, it was the first time Harry took a good look at him in seven years.

Draco didn't look as if he had changed much. His figure was still like that of a sixteen year old boy; small and slender. His face was as pale as ever, but the sharp point of his chin had disappeared, causing him to lose the arrogance he once carried. There was something off about him, Harry thought with a quiet disconcerting feeling, as if this was someone else with Draco's face. The old smirk that had always been present on his face had gone, replaced by unsmiling lips that made him look unusually timid, but the most visible change was his eyes.

Draco's eyes used to be hostile and sneering, like the cold water of the lake in the winter, but now... now they were like eyes of a frightened, wild animal that had been tamed in the cruelest ways. Harry found that, to his embarrassment, that he liked these eyes very much; they were like pools of unicorn's blood that shone in the moonlight of a very dark night. He had long eyelashes that would cast barely noticeable shadows on his cheeks whenever he blinked, and upon those lovely silver orbs were delicate, gentle eyebrows that gave him a look of youthful innocence. And his hands, so slender...

Harry was beginning to feel very stupid as he sat there admiring his ex-rival. "So where have you been all this time?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

Draco looked up from his cup to Harry, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?"

Harry was a bit irritated at Draco's expression. _What is up with him? _"Don't play with me, Malfoy, you know what I mean, disappearing for seven years and then suddenly appearing with men chasing after you. Did you make enemies while living out here? It wouldn't surprise me."

Draco's eyes widened, and then his lips trembled. "But I would never... I didn't..." Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill.

Harry was very disturbed at this point. Just yesterday he was living alone, unhappy but at peace, and today he was faced with a crying Draco Malfoy. _Is this some kind of trick fate's playing on me_? "I'm sorry! Stop crying already!" Harry said, rather panicky, and raised his hand to pat Draco on the head.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Draco stiffened when Harry's hand came into contact with him, but he didn't dare move away. Something in his head told him that he might get hurt, if he rejected this person's touch.

But the warmth flowing from the man's hand was comforting and kind, and his attitude was that of benevolence, not of harm. He felt strangely dizzy, and slowly his tears faded away.

When Draco looked up at the stranger before him, taking in the vivid green eyes and untidy black hair, he was very sure he had seen this person before, he couldn't quite place where...

"May I ask you a question?" Draco asked uncertainly, his voice soft and undemanding.

Stunned into silence, Harry could only nod.

"Have we ever met before?" The honest curiosity in his voice made Harry stare at him.

Unnerved by Harry's stare, Draco flushed deep red and looked away. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked..."

"Er... um... it's okay..." Harry said, turning a bit pale. Rubbing his temples tiredly Harry looked back at Draco, marveling at the way the blond looked in the sunlight. Compared to before, this Draco was much more... pretty... and rather fragile looking.

"Alright," Harry finally said. "So do you mean to say that you don't remember me?"

Draco shook his head, in a way that was almost apologetic. Harry fervently hoped not. It would be so much easier if Draco were wicked and mean like when they were at Hogwarts. At least then Harry would know what to do. Now, from the way things were looking, Harry didn't think he'd be able to figure out what was going on.

"My name is Harry Potter," Harry said, pushing his bangs away from his forehead to reveal his scar. "Ring any bells?"

Draco squinted slightly at the lightning bolt scar. "May I?" he asked, raising his fingers hesitantly.

"Go ahead."

When Draco's fingers touched his forehead, Harry couldn't help but give a little shiver. It felt oddly pleasant, like a cool breeze on a summer night.

"I think I might remember..." Vaguely Harry heard Draco speak, and quickly returned from his reverie. Draco was looking at him earnestly, and Harry was suddenly ashamed of the thoughts that had been flying through his head.

"What do you remember?" Harry asked, a bit hoarsely, then cleared his throat. What was wrong with him?

"Aren't you very famous? Harry Potter... you... I..." Draco said and then paused. All of the sudden his breaths became laboured, and with a wild desperation in his eyes Draco clasped his hands to his head.

Harry began to worry. The blond was mumbling nonsense under his breath, seeming as if he was hyperventilating. Worry turned into panic, and with an air of confused panic Harry grabbed Draco's arms. "Ma - Draco! Snap out of it!" Harry yelled, but it only seemed to frighten Draco even more, and he struggled violently against Harry's hold, screaming as if Harry was about to murder him.

"Draco! Draco!" Harry pulled him into his arms, one hand cradling his head, but Draco didn't stop screaming, nor did he cease his struggling, and with a desperate "Goddamnit!" he kissed Draco hard on the mouth.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Draco was shocked into silence.

For the very first time in his life, someone had kissed him, and very forcefully, too. He could feel Harry's tongue pushing past the slight parting of his lips, feel Harry tip his head upwards to deepen the kiss, could feel Harry pressing close to him. Flashes of lights fleeted through his head, and Draco closed his eyes, finally calming down.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Harry didn't even notice that Draco had ceased his terrified screams, so absorbed that he was in the heat that was radiating from the blond. He had never known it would feel this wonderful, kissing Draco. It vaguely occurred to Harry that kissing Draco was like drinking the most exotic wine, and he was getting drunk on its exquisite taste.

Draco was not resisting, Harry hazily realized, but his rational thoughts were chased away as he kissed Draco once again, sweeping his tongue across the swollen lips. He was sure that he could never get enough of this...

"Mhmm..." Draco gasped, breaking away from Harry, who watched as the flustered blond pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and stared at him in bewilderment.

Harry turned red. "Erm... maybe I should go get you something to eat," he suggested and quickly ran out of the room, leaving Draco even more bewildered than he was before.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Harry sat and watched Draco among the pillows and blankets of his bed, deep asleep. If yesterday someone had told him he was going to sit here and admire how angelic and young Draco looked when he slept, then he would have blown a hole right through their head for the disturbing image.

But the image wasn't so disturbing right now, Harry thought as he swept Draco's hair away from his face with a smile. The Draco now was completely and pleasantly different from the old one. He was... delicately breathtaking, like a clear rose made of glass glittering in the snow in the wild, or a crystal embedded on white plate of marble. Either way, Harry was very much taken with him.

Harry trailed a finger down that soft, pale creamy cheek and mused on how his thoughts had taken a different turn. Didn't he use to hate Draco before? Of course, the boy who had made the first five years of his life at Hogwarts as difficult as possible, who wouldn't hate him? But it felt so petty to carry on hating Draco, who barely remembered his past, who must have been through terrible things that had shaped him into the way he was now. Frowning, Harry recalled the reaction Draco gave at human contact. He'd cowered away from it, as if he was a frightened rabbit that was abused over and over again by cruel hands.

_A rabbit, eh_? Harry wondered, smiling quietly when Draco let out a soft moan and buried himself deeper under the blankets. Harry had ordered this bed made to his liking: king-sized, very soft and comfortable, with the sheets made of the most expensive fabric and the blankets embroidered in the most intricate designs. It was also charmed with the Relaxation and Dreamless spells, courtesy of Hermione, when Harry told her, or rather, she forced it out of him, that he still had nightmares of Voldemort and on top of that, his job was beating him down. Harry felt a bit cheerful thinking of her. Despite his choice in career, she was still very supportive and she never judged, which was more than he could say to other people. Shaking his head, Harry returned his thoughts to the blond that occupied his bed.

Something must _surely_ have happened, Harry concluded after observing Draco for a while. For once, Draco hit puberty sooner than Harry and was taller than him when he left school. Now, he looked as if he'd _shrunk_, not grew, and Harry could easily outdo him in both size and height. _Or maybe,_ Harry thought wryly, _I just grew a lot after joining the Auror training and had the worst and best years of my life_.

Harry smiled bitterly at the many memories that rushed through his head. If only he could go back in time...

At that moment the bell ran, indicating that someone was at the door.

With one last look at Draco Harry left the room and went to see his guest.

"Hello, Severus," Harry said before he even saw the person. "You have impeccable timing."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

**Chapter 2 - In the Silence of Our Pasts**

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox


	3. Chapter 2: In the Silence of Our Past

**Chapter 2 - In the Silence of Our Pasts**

* * *

Severus gave an indifferent smirk as he stepped into the house. "What you told me over the phone sparked my interest. So who's your new toy?"

Harry winced. "He's not my new toy, Severus. He's... odd. In fact, why don't you take a look?"

Harry led him through the long hallway to his room and opened the willow made door. Severus hesitated for a minute, then strode in. "Don't tell me you already..." Severus ceased his speaking when he caught sight of the figure on the bed. "Fuck," he said, with feeling.

"Well, that I didn't do, but in the future..." Harry shrugged. "You just never know."

Severus glared at Harry. "Don't babble such nonsense. What's he doing here? What have you done to him?"

"Hey, hey," Harry said cautiously, stepping away from Severus. "Don't get all testy with me. He's no longer your student, Severus. I didn't touch him, I'm sure someone else did a very good job on him instead."

Severus gave Harry a sharp look. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's go outside, shall we?" Harry suggested. "I can make you coffee."

* * *

"He was violated?"

Harry sipped his coffee and put the cup down on the circular table. After they'd settled down in the guest room and Harry had explained to Severus what happened and what his theories were, Severus was outraged.

"Calm down, Severus, that's not what I said. I don't know yet, but being raped could easily break someone, and from the way I see it, he's broken."

"Don't speak of him like he's a doll," Severus said, a bit defensively. "I know Draco, he's strong willed, a bit spoiled, maybe, but I have no doubt of his ability to defend himself, even without his wand." He added when he saw Harry was about to argue. "Draco might not like using violence through hands, but he will if it's absolutely necessary. And anyway, even if he were violated, Draco wouldn't turn out to be like this. He is not a woman." He said the last part with emphasis.

"Alright, I get it already," Harry said, giving up. "So why? What other reason is there for him to be acting like, well, a girl."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, and found that Harry could perhaps be right. This wasn't the Draco he once knew, that was for sure. Even the air Draco gave was different, _and_ Severus had only seen him sleeping.

"He can't possibly be a girl all this time," Harry said suddenly, horrified.

"Don't be stupid," Severus said, glaring at him. "Honestly, Potter, you took care of him last night. You would've... er... _seen_ it, wouldn't you?"

Harry smirked wickedly. "So he's not a girl, but he looks like he hasn't grown _at all_."

Severus understood, and against his will he flushed. "How could you say such thing about him! It's personal!" Sighing dejectedly, Severus waved a hand. "Never mind. You are just impossible."

Harry smiled innocently. "Who, me?"

"Don't give me that," Severus said. "So what did you call me here for? Surely not just to see my old student and hear about his new and tragic situation."

"No," Harry said, his demeanor becoming serious. "I want you to try and check on the list of Death Eaters and all the possible enemies that the Malfoys made."

Severus was silent for a while. "You think he was held captive by an enemy of the Malfoys?"

Harry nodded. "Or the Death Eaters. I heard a rumor that Lucius Malfoy defied Voldemort just before the bastard died. Perhaps that's why Voldemort wanted Draco to work for him."

"But that doesn't make sense. If he wanted Draco to work for him, then how come Draco never appeared in the war? Furthermore, Voldemort would _not_ want a broken doll working for him, as Draco clearly is now. It makes better sense if he hardened Draco up, not softened him down."

Harry paused, absently picking up the cup of coffee on the table. "Could it be that he was captured by some sadistic psycho? It's possible that he ran away after Lucius died, and by some unfortunate luck, fell into the hands of an old pervert whose enjoyment was to feminize pretty young boys. Perhaps the old pervert spent this seven years torturing Draco into the person he is now, and when Draco became just like he wanted, the blond ran away and then..."

"Potter, shut up," Severus said, his mouth twitching. "Did you even listen to yourself?"

"What?" Harry said defensively. "I was just making a theory."

"An improbable _and_ stupid one. What do you do in your free time, anyway?" Severus sighed in frustration when Harry smiled secretly. "On second thought, don't answer that. I have a feeling I will not appreciate whatever it is that you're thinking."

Harry laughed. "Don't say that. I'm an honest, respectable man."

"Nice try, Potter." Severus sneered. "You being as such is impossibility itself, or do you not remember the women that you abandoned oh so cruelly?"

"The women _loved_ me," Harry said without a trace of embarrassment. "They just became a nuisance after a while. Besides, no one is worth the trouble if all they do is nag at you about 'our future'. I always thought that I made myself clear enough about the fact that there is _no_ future."

"How cold," Severus said, amused. "I hope you won't treat Draco like that, or I might just have to take him away from your evil clutches."

Harry wasn't one to back down from Severus' teasing. "You can try, but I assure you that by the time I'm finished with him, he won't be wanting to leave."

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Severus smirked. "But from the way he is now, I doubt he'd even let you touch him."

"Then I just have to change that, don't I?" Harry said, his eyes glinting maliciously.

Severus shook his head. "You're unbelievable. If only others could see you like this..."

"People _do_ see me like this," Harry admitted. "They just deny it. They don't want to know that the great Harry Potter is cold and heartless. They want the innocent, naive Harry that would bend to their will and comply blindly to their 'requests'."

Severus looked at Harry, the man who was bitter and furious at his own spoken words. He knew, of course, why Harry turned out to be the way he was now. Perhaps his reason hit too close to home, perhaps that was why Severus could understand him so much better than others.

Finishing his coffee, Severus stood up, Harry following suit. "I'll look into it for you. Perhaps it'll be good for me as well, knowing more about Lucius' enemies, I mean."

"Thanks, Severus," Harry said gratefully, glad to have lost all traces of the bitterness he showed in a moment of unsuppressed emotions.

"Don't thank me, I'm doing this for Draco, and I also want to know what happened, as well," he added the last part as an afterthought.

"Alright." Harry smiled, a bit tiredly in Severus' opinion. "See you, Severus. Come to the club when you have time."

Before they got to the door, though, the phone rang.

* * *

Severus and Harry looked at each other. No one they knew would call the home phone, except Ron and Hermione. But they were on vacation, and wouldn't be home until next year. As for Harry's underlings, they always called him on his cell. Therefore, whoever that was on the other line was definitely someone he didn't know.

"Pick it up," Severus said softly.

Harry didn't need to be told twice.

"Hello, Harry Potter's speaking," Harry said harshly. There was a pause of silence, then a muffled voice from the other side spoke up. It was a man.

Severus watched as Harry held the phone to his ear and listened. After a few seconds, Harry took on the face of a businessman, the one that Severus knew too well.

This phone call meant nothing but trouble.

Finally, Harry set down the phone with an eerie calmness that Severus found disturbing. "What's it all about?" he asked, unable to take in the tension any longer.

"Well, it seems all our theories were false," Harry said. "Severus, go and wake Draco up. I'm contacting Crabbe and Goyle."

"What's going on?"

Harry's eyes were deadly cold when he looked at Severus. "The man on the line was Augustus Pyre. He said that he has a proposal to make and that I should meet him at his office. He also asked that I brought Draco with me."

* * *

Draco looked up at Harry uncertainly as he walked alongside of him. When he woke up a few moments ago, there was a very dark, stern looking man staring at him. Draco felt a blush creeping up his face when he remembered what he did. It was incredible how he could just chuck the alarm clock at the man's face without asking who he was first! Harry must be really mad at him now.

"What's wrong?" Draco was startled by Harry's question, so absorbed in his own thoughts as he was.

"Umm..." Draco hesitated, glancing at Harry. "Are you mad at me?"

Harry was bewildered when he heard this. "Why... wait a minute, you don't think I'm mad at you because you threw my clock at Severus, did you?" Seeing Draco's red face, Harry laughed. "Draco, it's alright. You can chuck anything you want at that man. He's expendable."

Draco wasn't sure what Harry meant by that, but he was relieved, which didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

_Damn,_ _he's so cute_, Harry thought uncontrollably, watching that small smile curving Draco's tempting lips and unconsciously raised his arm to put it around Draco's shoulder --

When the limousine drove up the park way and two very large men in black came out.

_Bad timing_, Harry thought, irritated.

"You called, boss. What's the rush?" one of them said, pulling off his sunglasses.

"There's been a bit of an emergency, Crabbe, and I need -"

"Draco!" The other man exclaimed, settling his eyes on the petite boy next to Harry.

Crabbe, upon hearing the name, turned to face Draco, who reflexively cowered away at their gaze.

"Draco!" Crabbe and Goyle said incredulously, and promptly surrounded Draco.

Draco, startled by the newcomers' sudden affection, latched himself onto Harry.

When the two men noticed that Draco was trying to get away from them, they turned to each other in confusion. Then, as if realization had dawned on them, both turned to Harry with a harsh glare. Harry was, privately, startled. In the time that they worked for him, the thugs had never given him such a look.

"What have you done to Draco?" Crabbe snarled, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

The tone of voice snapped Harry back to his normal self, and in a deathly dangerous voice he said, "What's that?"

Crabbe looked as if he wanted to answer, but Goyle held him back. Harry gave them both a disgusted look. "Know your place, and remember that I am your boss," he said, his gaze like the winter ice.

"Yes, sir," Goyle said, his tone perfunctory.

Harry glanced at the other man, his expression challenging, cruelly mocking Crabbe with just a fleetest of look. "Of course, boss," Crabbe grounded out.

"Then what are you waiting for, get in the car."

Goyle complied, but it actually took Crabbe a few seconds before he moved. Harry smirked rather unlike himself and opened the door for Draco.

Draco looked at them all worriedly before getting the limousine with a quiet thank you to Harry.

As the car drove on, Draco sat there in an awkward silence with Harry, feeling awfully uncomfortable. In the short time that Draco had known Harry, he'd discovered that the man was unpredictable and perhaps a bit... possessive. Even though Draco had a feeling that he'd seen Harry somewhere before, he couldn't place his finger on as to where, but there was one thing he knew for certain: Harry gave him a feeling of safety that he didn't think he'd ever experienced before. It brought him some comfort.

"Um," Draco spoke hesitantly, feeling a bit insecure when Harry turned to look at him. "Excuse me but who are those people?" Up in the front Vincent and Gregory twitched a bit irritably at being called _those people_.

_So he doesn't remember them, then_. Harry gave Draco a long look, then eventually replied, "It doesn't matter."

Harry didn't feel especially talkative, especially when he was so troubled by the turn of events. Crabbe and Goyle, who were normally impassive to their surrounding and obedient like dogs to a master, were speaking against him, strangely enough. It made him wonder what sort of relationship they had with Draco when they were younger. An unbidden image crept into his mind, and Harry swiftly shooed it away. _How disturbing_. Harry rubbed his forehead tiredly. What was wrong with him? He couldn't believe that he was actually pondering such things. It wasn't like this was going to clear up the many things he never knew about Draco.

Harry smiled grimly. There were a lot of things about Draco Malfoy that he didn't know, and if Draco wasn't going to regain his memories soon, Harry was sure that the blonde's past would forever be a mystery to him.

Harry glanced at Draco discreetly. Draco was staring out of the window absentmindedly, not knowing that he was sitting next to _Harry Potter_, his rival when they were in school. Harry wasn't sure if Draco even remembered his own past, his family, and the infamous title that family name carried.

_Voldemort's right hand man._

Harry leaned back against the leathery seat, sighing quietly. Everything had to wait until later. For now, he must be prepared to face London's renowned scientist, Augustus Pyre.

* * *

**to be continued**

**Chapter 3 - A Step Back in Time**

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! Boring chapter, yes? Well, it'll get better (hopefully) Thanks to those who read and liked it, esp. my beta Dreamweaver ;) Sorry it took forever, but I'm never going to give up on it! 


	4. Chapter 3: A Step Back In Time

**Note: **In the previous chapter, I put Pyer as Augustus' surname, but after reading the fifth book again, I realized that there was a character named Augustus _Pye_. Anyway, I thought it'd be good to put him in the story, so Pyer is now Pye. Sorry for the inconvenience guys :)

---------------------------------------------

**Chapter 3 - A Step Back In Time**

---------------------------------------------

The ride was short and painfully quiet. Harry, who had been in many disconcerting situations in the past few years, had to admit that the energy in the air was not a pleasant one. Gregory and Vincent, in the presence of the blonde, became very protective and would, once in a while, glare back at Harry in the rearview mirror. Harry ignored them. He was used to hateful glances, and he knew that the thugs wouldn't do anything rash, since Harry was the only one who could keep them from being arrested due to their criminal records.

Harry was a very successful financial firm's owner living in London, and naturally his business wasn't exactly free of crime. He had Muggle police trailing him everywhere he went, waiting for him to slip up. If it wasn't because for his magic, Harry would probably be on the run right about now. It wasn't a satisfying job, but it made Harry feel like himself. He couldn't quite explain it, but living this sort of life, the risks and competition, it was exhilarating.

It also pissed off the wizarding world, which was an added bonus.

Quite frankly, he was sick of magic and everything that'd got to do with it. He was sick of people trying to run his life. He thought that they'd be nice enough to leave him to his own path. But no, he thought caustically, they all had to invade his privacy and turn him into a puppet of their own will.

Well, Harry had had enough. He wasn't going to be anyone's pet, and so he slipped into the Muggle world, building his way up to the top with luck, ambition, and a will to be free. And in order to maintain that, he had to give up the one thing that he'd once believed in: justice.

_Justice doesn't exist. What exists is human's attempt to play God, and it's from that basis, 'good will' will bring anarchy and a greed for power. They don't understand is that God doesn't judge his creations, Harry, he doesn't brand them with the name 'good' or 'evil', and that makes all the difference in this world that we live in._

_Yes, yes it does_, Harry thought, his hands curling into fists. Justice didn't exist in the world he lived in, nor did good and evil. There were only humans, and their mistakes.

_Fuck it all_.

---------------------------------------------

Harry's cell phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts.

"What?" Harry said agitatedly, flipping the phone open. Sitting inches away from Harry, Draco looked up curiously.

"As amiable as always, Mr. Potter," Severus' sardonic voice replied smoothly. "I'm calling to let you know what I've found out," he continued before Harry could reply.

Harry was immediately attentive. "Go on."

"I am looking at my file here on Augustus Pye, and according to it, when he was eleven years old he attended Durmstrange. However, he followed up on the art of healing and worked at St. Mungo's briefly as an intern, then he disappeared for about half a year, shortly after his parents died. After that time lapse he returned and created his own science institute, the place you're making your way to, as a matter of fact."

Harry's brows furrowed in thought. _Pye..._ the name rang a bell somewhere. Harry was certain he'd heard it before.

And then it clicked. Augustus Pye was that young man he'd seen in his fifth year, when visiting Arthur Weasley at St. Mungo's. He had seemed like an idiot back then, using stitches on a magical induced injury. Who knew he would have so much influence now in the Muggle world.

"Thanks, Severus," Harry said, and was about to hang up when the other man's voice rang out once again.

"Actually, there's something else I think you should know."

"What?" Harry snapped impatiently. Why must Severus unnecessarily lengthen every conversation he had with him? The only answer that came to mind was that he enjoyed aggravating Harry.

Draco, meanwhile, gave a little jump at Harry's harsh tone, which did not go unnoticed by Crabbe, who, in his anger, slammed his foot on the brake.

"Argh! Fuck! What the hell, Crabbe?" Harry yelled, his head hitting the back of the driver's seat due to the impact.

"Sorry, boss," Crabbe said, very pleased with himself, until he realized that Draco had also injured his head. "Draco!" he said worriedly, momentarily distracted and therefore pressed hard on the accelerator. This caused them all to jerk backward as the car sped up.

"Pull over, goddamn it, Crabbe, _pull over_!" Harry commanded, torn between screaming at his subordinate and checking to see if Draco was okay. When they had parked safely next to a sidewalk, Harry told Goyle to take the wheel and gave Crabbe a glare that spoke volumes of exactly how he felt about the situation. In any other circumstance, Crabbe would have been worried for his life, but now he was too absorbed in asking Draco how he was to care.

"I'm okay," Draco assured them, feeling very self-conscious. Harry didn't have a chance to reply to this statement before he heard a buzzing from his cell phone, and remembered that Severus was still on the other line.

"Sorry," Harry said in annoyance. "These idiots are just demonstrating just exactly _why_ they're idiots. Not _you_, Draco." Harry attempted a smile at the blonde, but somehow, his mouth curved downward instead of the other way around. Draco smiled back at him, albeit meekly.

_Adorable_, Harry thought, feeling a bit dazed.

"As I was saying, Potter," Severus interrupted his thought sharply. "Please listen when you're spoken to."

"I'm listening."

"Augustus Pye's parents didn't die because of natural causes. They were murdered. The Aurors confirmed that it was the Avada Kedavra that did it, but they couldn't find the culprits. Pye wasn't killed along with them, and it was rumored that he knew the murderers, but there's nothing to verify that, especially when he vanished without a trace after their death."

Harry pondered this. Avada Kedavra was one of the few favorites of the Death Eaters, so could it be that the murders were linked to them somehow?

"Severus, I'm wondering, did this happen in my sixth year at Hogwarts? And... didn't all the Death Eaters break out of Azkaban by that time? Do you think...?"

"Lucius had a hand in their deaths?" Severus finished. "That's a possibility. It would certainly explain why Draco is being targeted. But don't read too much into this, Harry. What I have here are just assumptions. You won't know until you meet him."

"That's true," Harry agreed, his mind already working fast to figure out what to do with what Severus had just told him. "Thanks. I'll contact you after my meeting with Pye."

"Don't do anything brash" was all the older man said before he hung up.

Harry smiled coldly, eyes narrowing with a dangerous look. _I can't promise you that, Severus_. Harry glanced at Draco as the blonde spoke with Crabbe. _Not if Draco's involved_.

And quite suddenly, Harry realized that in less than twenty-four hours, Draco had somehow torn down all of his defenses, leaving his heart bare for only him to see.

_Well, I'll be damned_, Harry thought, but strangely enough, he felt no malice upon such knowledge.

---------------------------------------------

**Pye's Science Institute of Bio-Chemistry and Technology...**

Harry was, despite his irritation, very astounded at the tall building. An idiot who had become the president of the very successful company was nothing short of miraculous. He really couldn't wait to meet the man face to face.

Crabbe held the door opened for them, and Harry allowed Draco to enter first, having this strange notion that Crabbe really wanted to let go of the door so it'd slam into his face. In barely one hour upon meeting Draco, one of his most trustworthy men was already defying him more times than he could count. This thought disturbed him somewhat.

"Mr. Potter?"

An abnormally large man, about the size of Goyle, materialized in front of Harry, wearing a black suit and black sunglasses.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Draco shrink away from the man, but ignored it and answered, "That's me."

"Mr. Pye is waiting for you. Would you please come with me," he said, sweeping out a hand not toward the elevator, but down a corridor past the reception desk.

Draco seemed reluctant to go on, and Harry noticed that he was looking toward the door as if deciding to run for it. A disconcerting thought occurred to him. _So this is not the first time Draco'd been here_.

Gently Harry grasped the blonde's hand, and gave him a look that he hoped was reassuring. It probably was, because Draco turned away from the door and followed him.

They reached the end of the hall soon enough, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the security system. How foolish of Pye to think mere Muggle security could possibly protect this place.

"Not only Muggle security, boss," Goyle murmured behind him, as if knowing what he was thinking.

Harry shifted slightly, indicating that he was listening. "There's a trickle of magic surrounding us. It's possible that they're using some sort of identification spell, so that we won't be going anywhere around this place without them knowing just exactly who we are."

Harry nodded. "And some sort of protective ward, no doubt." Harry gave a small pause, and then said very quietly, "Unwind the current of magic, just in case we need to make an emergency exit." Goyle didn't even look at Harry, who knew immediately that the brute was already picking away the threads of magic wrapping around them.

The platinum door slid apart, allowing them entrance.

Harry swept inside without needing to be invited, pulling Draco along with him. The magic was faint, almost unnoticeable. Normal wizards wouldn't be able to detect it, but Goyle was a specialized type of wizard, with an incredibly rare ability to feel even the barest hints of magic in the air. It was useful, of course, especially when Harry had business with magical folks who tried to pass off as Muggles. It was silly and possibly stupid of them, thinking that he was foolish enough to fall for their tricks. People underestimated him, and it had always turned around to bite them in the a--

"We're here."

Harry came to a stop in front of a artfully designed, willow made door and raised an eyebrow. _How cliché_.

The unknown man knocked, and opened the door. Harry stepped inside, but stopped when he felt a slight tug from Draco.

Draco's eyes resembled those of a frightened, trapped animal, and Harry squeezed his hand comfortingly. The blonde, after a second of hesitation, let Harry lead him in.

The room was, expectedly, very business like. If Harry had imagined it to be filled with cauldrons and potions, he was wrong. There was a bookshelf along the wall, a door near a quiet fireplace, a wide window (which somehow was showing a view of the street below), and a very handsome, polished black desk and chair.

When Harry's eyes settled on the leather seat, he knew right away the man sitting on it was Pye. Even if he had lost that callow expression and that goofy smile, his sharp blue eyes weren't a feature easily forgotten.

Crabbe and Goyle stepped inside the room as their escort went out and shut the door. Harry saw Crabbe's vigilant eyes taking in the architecture of the office, and was pleased that the man was at least doing his job.

"Mr. Potter, I presume." The words were spoken slowly, calculated, in a voice full of arrogant command. Harry had a sudden urge to laugh, but held it down as he faced Pye eye to eye.

"Augustus Pye," Harry acknowledged coldly, noticing that the man's eyes flickered briefly over to Draco, letting him know just exactly what Pye was after.

Deliberately Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder and pulled him close, watching Pye closely. The man showed no sign of interest, but Harry could feel the tension in the room thicken. "This is Draco Malfoy," Harry said knowingly, "You must have heard of him."

Draco tried to back away when Pye's eyes fell on him, but Harry held on firmly, reassuringly.

"Yes, I've heard of him," Pye said, and with one last lingering look at Draco, turned to Harry. "In fact, he is my property."

---------------------------------------------

Crabbe made a violent movement toward Pye, but stayed where he was when Harry gave him a disgusted look, as if saying _Know your place_.

"Pardon my man," Harry said, not looking in the least apologetic. "He is rather impulsive at times."

Pye's smile was cruel and hollow as he beckoned to the chair in front of him. "No worry," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Please do sit down."

Harry's hand fell away from Draco's shoulder as he took his seat. Immediately Crabbe and Goyle moved closer so that they were stranding in protective range of Draco.

"I understand that you have something to discuss, Mr. Pye," Harry said frankly. There was no reason to worry about Draco now. He was more than safely protected. "And as much as I would love to sit away leisurely, I'm afraid that there are many important matters that require my attention."

Pye's eyes darkened noticeably, but they smoldered away like flames dying in a cold night. A nasty smile spread across his face. "Of course, Mr. Potter, I would not want to hold you back for any reasons, so let us cut to the chase." A disconcerting feeling settled in Harry's stomach, yet he pushed away and concentrated on Pye. "As I have said, you have something that belongs to me, and I'm afraid that I must have it back."

Harry was irritated at the way Pye referred to Draco. He sounded as if Draco was an object of possession, as if Draco _belonged_ to him by inherent right. The thought was met with agreements as Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly at Pye, managing to startle Draco, the one person they least wanted to frighten.

"Forgive me for not understanding," Hary said curtly, "but if you are referring to Draco Malfoy, then I believe you are very much mistaken."

Pye gave a humorless chuckle, managing to sound both mocking and patronizing. "Oh no, Mr. Potter, it's _you_ that are mistaken. You see, for the past five years, Draco has been my property." Pye opened his desk drawer and retrieved a folder. "This is proof of that."

Not taking his eyes off Pye, Harry took the proffered folder and flipped it open.

Draco's face stood out on the very front page, the one, Harry noted with surprise, from their seventh year scrapbook. Draco looked tired, yet his face was plastered with a smirk and arrogance so familiar of the Malfoys. He suppressed himself from turning around and looking at the blonde as he was now, knowing that the drastic difference would only serve to unnerve him.

With an air of detachment Harry turned to the next page and read it through. The information that he absorbed, though, did not shed any light, but only further confused him. The parchment was the legal confirmation that "Mr. Draconis Orpheus Lucius Black Malfoy, in accordance with his family members, Mr. Lucius Orpheus Malfoy and Mrs. Narcissa Aphrodite Black Malfoy, is legally recognized as an official subject of research as of ... signifying that he is, under no conditions, explicit or implied, to leave the _Science Institution of Bio-Chemistry and Technology, _which, under the nation's laws and ... with full legitimacy owned and administrated by Mr. Augustus Julius Pye. Furthermore, Mr. Draco Malfoy will consent to the Code of Conducts (15) and will not, under any circumstances, openly defy, repudiate, or inhibit experiments and researches executed by the institution ... If, by any reason, the infringement of these rules is discerned by the President and rightful owner of the institute, Mr. Pye Augustus, immediate suspension or possible expulsion from ... Conversely, if Mr. Draco Malfoy expressively wishes to be removed from the ordeal, he must, first, be at the closing stages of the experiment and must have full approval of Mr. Augustus Pye and the national court..."

And then it carried on until the third page, in which it asked for the signatures of those involved in the agreement, and, to Harry's boundless surprise and confusion, Draco's name, neatly scrawled on the bottom of the page, was seen, unmistakable and, quite frankly, unbelievable.

Harry scanned through the rest of the 'proof', feeling disgusted at the terms and agreements and appalled that the government had allowed this science institute to get away with such... unethical acts.

_But who am I to judge_, Harry thought ironically and closed the folder, throwing it carelessly toward Pye and saying one simple word, "Bullshit."

Pye cocked his head as if puzzled, and Harry sneered. "Do you actually think that this piece of crap is going to justify anything? I can have you arrested for unlawful experiments and imprisoning underage boys."

Pye laughed. An actual, incredulous laugh. "Unlawful? _Underage_? You have a peculiar sense of humor, Mr. Potter. What I'm showing you here is no fraud. The signatures of government officials are all here, personally signed and approved. If you must, you can call and confirm."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Let's not beat around the bush, Pye." There was no reason to keep up a polite facade. They both knew what they were here for. "I don't particularly care about the government nor your questionable institute, and most certainly not the law." Harry paused, allowing time for his last words to sink in. "We both know who we truly are, and what we are capable of. _I_ personally know what I'm capable of, if pushed hard enough. Perhaps you have heard of my reputation, and if not, then I advise you not to test my limits."

Pye pulled an expression of mock outrage. "How can you accuse me of testing your limits, Mr. Potter? What I am doing is lawful enough. I simply ask for the return of my possession. I'm afraid it is _you_ who are pushing your limits by, bluntly put, kidnapping one of my test subjects."

"He came to me willingly enough," Harry said, and, as if making his point, pulled Draco closer by his waist. The blonde came into Harry's warmth, surprised. He didn't protest, however, when Harry looked up at him with a possessive smile on his lips and a warning in his eyes.

In a deliberate movement, so that Pye could see just exactly what he was doing, Harry's hand trailed down until it rested firmly on the curve of Draco's ass.

Naturally, Draco was startled, and his first reflex was to pull away, but the warning in Harry's eyes flashed in his mind, and with a blushing face he remained where he was.

Meanwhile, Harry was satisfied to see Pye's eyes burned with fury as they stared fixedly at Harry's hand, with both his own closing tightly into fists. It was obvious that Pye held some deep feelings for Draco, and Harry wasn't going to let this knowledge go to waste.

"If I am not mistaken, the contract says that Draco is allowed to leave if he wishes," Harry said smoothly, urging Draco closer with a press of his palm. "Draco, do you want to stay with this man?"

Draco, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten, turned to Pye and looked away with a firm shake of his head.

Harry's eyes locked with Pye's. "That is certainly enlightening. So if you will, release Draco --"

"I'm afraid that will not be happening," Pye cut Harry off roughly. "The experiment the institute is carrying on has not come to a conclusion, and Draco is obliged to continue as a subject."

"Draco will _not_ continue to be your guinea pig --" Harry said hotly, but Pye did not let him finish.

"_Furthermore_, if Draco is to pull out now, I'm afraid there will be... unwelcome consequences," Pye said ominously, pleased when Harry's expression turned to one of suspicion and puzzlement.

"If you are bullshiting me, Pye..."

"Oh no, Mr. Potter, how can I do such a thing?" Pye's eyes widened innocently, but that vicious smile was enough to stamp out his pretense. "Draco is a part of a very extensive and important research for the progress of human kind. As it was, he tends to suffer... some side effects. Here in the institute we have sufficient medicine to neutralize those subsidiary results. However, if I let him go, I cannot guarantee his complete safety."

Harry, despite thinking that Pye was just playing with his mind, was unwilling to risk the possibility. However, he pushed on, not wanting Pye to gain the upper ground. "If you think I care about that, then you are fooling yourself. Draco will be fine with me. Believe me, Pye, I will do everything in and out of my power to keep Draco." A thought struck Harry. "If it is money you want, then name the price. I will buy him, if it comes to that."

"But is that what Draco wants?" Pye challenged. "Draco has shown his aversion to stay here, but he did not express his will to stay with _you_."

Harry looked at Pye long and hard. "It does not matter. Whether he is willing or not, I will have him. If that is all, I'll take my leave." Harry stood up and put his arm around Draco's shoulders.

"Draco is emotionally and mentally unstable." Pye stood up abruptly. Harry paused in his steps. "The chemicals in his body act against his natural hormones, and unless he receives proper care, Draco will not last long."

Harry spun around, unable to contain his anger any longer. What had Pye, in these years keeping Draco here, done to him? What sort of perverse experiments had he forced Draco to be a part of? Hell, what sort of perverse activities had _he _done to Draco?

"Mr. Pye," Harry said, very quietly, and the ink bottle on the table shattered to pieces, spraying black ink all over the polished desk and floor. "I would like to know very much, what you have put Draco through in the years that you've imprisoned him here?" The pens standing in their holder snapped into pieces, and the ornate, ancient looking vase next to the window fell to the floor in a pile of dust.

Pye, to his credit, was unfazed by Harry's fury. "Experiment No.000733, fully approved by the government, is designed to stop a human's aging process. Draco, as a subject of this research, has been exposed to chemical substances that hold the possibilities of success. But he became a guinea pig at sixteen, when his body is still developing. As such, his growth hormone as well as others has become erratic, causing unpredictable and uncontrollable side-effects."

Harry had a feeling that there was something Pye was not telling him. "And what are these... side-effects?"

Pye smiled slowly. "Memory loss, claustrophobia, weak mentality, and..." He looked positively delightful at what he was about to reveal "... sexual dissatisfaction, and yet," he added, "unwanted sexual acts will only result in a completely broken mind, seeing how frail his mind is."

Harry glanced at Draco, who looked very lost and puzzled at this apparently newfound information.

"And what have you done all these times to keep him sane, Pye?" Harry asked, feeling something awful inside him rising to the surface. "Did you tie him up in a cell? Did you give him a Sleeping Draught every day? Or," There was a madness burning in his eyes, "did you fuck him?"

The smile on Pye's face never wavered. His fingers ached as he imagined that face broken and splattered with blood.

"How crude," Pye said mildly. "I would never commit such an act to such an innocent boy." He turned to Draco, his eyes full of vicious longing and horrible secrets. Draco stepped back, a sudden, fleeting image of someone laughing and hurting filling his mind, before it disappeared and left him very frightened.

Harry could feel Draco shake violently, and gripped his shoulder hard. He'd had enough.

"Just name the price, Pye. I will have Draco, and that's final."

Pye's eyes were blank, a hollow emptiness that Harry only knew too well.

It was the look of a man who had gone too far to back down. The look of darkness.

"Price?" Pye repeated, and, smiling broadly he indicated to a door on the right of his room. "Shall we play a game, Mr. Potter?"

"What game?" Harry snapped. Draco was cold to the touch, and Harry felt that any more time spent here wouldn't do much to ease the blonde's condition.

"A game of knowledge and luck, of sort," Pye replied nonchalantly. "A hundred million dollars at stake, and Draco, too, of course. Winner... takes all."

_A game of knowledge_. The alarm inside his head went off loudly. Somehow, he had a suspicious feeling that this was going to involve foul play.

"Fine. Let's do it then."

The smile became more prominent on Pye's face as he opened the door and mockingly ushered them inside.

---------------------------------------------

**To Be Continued**

**Chapter 4 - The Nature of Fate**

---------------------------------------------

**A/N**: Here's chapter three, fresh from the oven… or not +.+ I had this done awhile ago, but because my computer was messed up I couldn't do anything about it.

So, _many, MANY thanks to Curious Dreamweaver_. She's such a fantastic beta, mucho amor ;)

And thank you, the wonderful readers who just keep egging me on ;P So you go ahead and make me feel guilty some more if the next chapter isn't done quickly enough

'Till next time!


	5. Chapter 4: The Nature of Fate

---------------------------------------------  
**Chapter 4 - The Nature of Fate  
**---------------------------------------------

The door led them into a large chamber filled with potions and herbs and chemicals. Harry suppressed the urge to cringe. This was worse than Snape's classroom.

"What do you want, Pye?" Harry demanded impatiently.

The magic in there was thick, so thick that it made Harry nauseous. He only hoped Goyle would be able to unravel the magic before they made an escape, which he had a feeling they would have to.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Harry pretended he didn't see Pye grin maliciously and continued speaking, "So what is it?"

Pye's grin widened. "It's rather simple, you see," he said gleefully. "I expect you know about potions."

Harry felt a chill down his neck. "Of course I know," Harry snapped, _I'm only the worst potion maker in my year, 'side Neville, is all_. "Is that it? Making potion? Is that the grand and brilliant game you've come up with?" Harry sneered, desperately trying to recall all his learning from the seven years in Hogwarts and then the three years afterward helping out with the med-wizards during the war.

"But here's a twist, Mr. Potter," Pye said politely. "I'll give you the ingredients, which when used correctly will result in a certain potion." Pye snapped his fingers. An automatic table rose from under the floor, its surface covered with items necessary for potion making. "But," Pye paused dramatically. Harry had never known controlling his urge to strangle someone was so difficult. "I added a few arbitrary items in this list of ingredients. If you accidentally use a wrong one, your concoction may result in... certain fatalities."

Harry glanced at the table. "The ingredients aren't labeled."

Pye's eyes twinkled viciously. "That's the whole point, isn't it?"

Crabbe growled menacingly. Harry could almost feel his killing intention. _Not yet_, Harry thought, _I haven't made him suffer for what he'd done to Draco_.

"And what will you do, Mr. Pye? Surely not stand there and watch?"

Pye shrugged nonchalantly. "You can do the same to me, of course. Pick out anything from this room, and I'll make a potion out of your choosing." Pye smiled sweetly. "Of course, none of them are labeled, so we're on equal standing."

_No, we're not, you sly cunt. _Harry could see the unfair advantage Pye held. If he had been in any other situation, he would have just killed the other. But this was not just any situation. He did not know what would happen in this thick magical aura if he made a sudden move. Moreover, Draco was here. Harry didn't want him hurt.

"Fine," Harry said finally and nodded to Goyle. The man grunted and moved about the room, picking out bottles and herbs. Finally he set them on the other table, where Pye was standing behind.

Harry glanced at him, then back at his own ingredients. "Let's begin, then."

-------------------------

Draco gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, eyes falling on Harry. This situation made Draco feel very uneasy. It felt like a déjà vu, but he didn't know why. His mind was screaming in protest at Harry jumping into a risky and unfair game, but at the same time, he didn't dare speak up. There was a million dollars at stake, and he had no right to interfere with Harry's business... whatever that was.

If Harry knew what Draco was thinking, he would probably bang his head against the wall in exasperation. The blond couldn't be any more clueless, if he thought Harry was risking his life for money.

But back then, Draco wasn't clueless. He may have been spoiled, selfish, mean spirit, but he was sharp. He was clever.

The Draco now gave off an air of a lost little puppy, confused and timorous, easily controlled and manipulated.

Like what Pye had done to him for years. Like what Pye was trying to do now.

Harry wouldn't stand for it. He and Draco may have been rivals, but he'd be damned if he let the blond slip away from his fingers this time.

-------------------------

Time ticked by. The air in the room felt stuffy. Harry pulled at the collar of his shirt and loosened his tie. His hair was messier than before, his face was flushed, his expression intense. Draco watched him work and sweated nervously.

Even Pye, by this point, was looking very strained and flustered. Their potions were beginning to bubble.

Goyle, as expected of him, was quietly unweaving the threads of magic in this room. It was difficult. He hadn't seen security magic this complex since the war.

Crabbe, on the other hand, was standing closely behind Draco. He had a bad feeling. And bad feelings in this sort of circumstances always turned out to be a forewarning for future misfortune. In his case, at least.

Crabbe, as a sensible (or as sensible as a man who thought with his fists could be) person, had no worries that Harry would win. Harry always won. He knew his boss. The years spent covering his back as they climbed through the shady business had taught him that Harry would never do anything unless he was absolutely sure the outcome was favorable to him.

And if the outcome wasn't favorable, Crabbe thought with a quiet smirk, then it was just a bonus that Harry was incredible at using underhand tactics to achieve his end.

Distracted from his thoughts for a second, Crabbe suddenly noticed Draco's flushed face. He frowned. It was true the room was oddly warm and stifling, but the rouge on Draco's cheeks was unnaturally deep red. In fact, it looked more like ...

Draco tipped backward, his legs giving out underneath him. Crabbe quickly caught him, mildly surprised at how light Draco was.

That fact was quickly pushed away by a more pressing matter, as Crabbe was now convinced that Draco was burning up with a fever.

_Shit_, he cursed silently. He couldn't disturb Harry now, as his potion was going into its last stages. Crabbe knew nothing about potion, having failed it every single year at Hogwarts, but he knew that with that many ingredients, this must be one of those advanced potions, indeed.

It appeared that the others hadn't noticed the state Draco was in, as Harry and Pye were intent in their ministrations and Goyle was still focusing on taking apart the magic in the room.

Crabbe admitted he had been in many disconcerting situations in the past, but this one definitely fell under the worst of all.

Because he had no fucking clue of what to do.

"Harry," Draco murmured, his voice barely heard.

Crabbe stared down at him, and awkwardly wiped his damped hair out of his eyes. "What?"

"The potion," Draco breathed. "I know it."

Crabbe's heart slammed against his chest. _What does Draco mean_?

"Tell Harry," Draco said feebly, grasping onto Crabbe's suit. "The ingredients..."

"What about them?" Crabbe urged, noticing out the corner of his eye that Harry had just poured a whole vial of some sort of red liquid into the smoking cauldron. The potion gave a small explosive sound.

Draco shook his head, trying to push himself up. "It's a trap. Harry..."

There were five different items that Harry hadn't used yet. Crabbe narrowed his eyes. Newt's eyes, probably, a bowl of blue powder, salamander's scales (_Or is it fish's?_Crabbe wondered), a vial of clear liquid, and the last ingredient, looked like a mandrake's root.

"He's missing one important element to the potion," Draco rasped out. "It wasn't given to him."

Crabbe's eyes widened. He could see Pye from where he was, smirking triumphantly as Harry picked up another item and was ready to drop it into his concoction.

"Stop... him, Vincent." The words fell out of Draco's mouth softly before the boy closed his eyes.

Crabbe stared at him, bewildered. Did Draco just call him...?

Pye grinned, eyes bright with victory and gleefulness as Harry let go of the mandrake's root. Crabbe, at this moment, noticed and knew that it was too late.

_Shit!_

-------------------------

**Hogwarts... the dungeon...**

Snape's hands trembled as he held the frayed paper in his hand, his own desk scattered with documents of similar content.

The information was incredible. Snape knew he was one of the best potion masters in Europe, a man who understood Muggle's derivations of chemistry just as well as he understood the magical properties of it, but to think, Pye, a boy who barely reached his mid-twenties, could be able to come up with _this_.

It was revolutionary. Or at least, to the Muggle world it was. In magic, there wasn't much that couldn't be accomplished.

Snape quickly gathered all the papers into a neat pile and slid them into a large envelop. He must report this to the Minister of Magic immediately. Pye's institute was, apparently, a partially government funded organization, which meant nothing good when it came to this kind of research. If they succeeded, and from the look of things Snape suspected they would, then the world was going to be changed, drastically.

Robes swishing as he moved toward the fireplace, Snape was halted in his haste when a piece of paper fell to the ground. Frowning Snape bent to pick it up, faintly noticing that it was part of the documents he'd found.

Quickly skimming over the page, Snape's curiosity quickly turned into one of shock.

"Oh hell," he muttered. "Why the fuck does everything have to do with Harry bloody Potter?"

With one swift motion Snape threw the powder into the fireplace, watching as the flames burst forth, spitting green sparks.

After stepping into the fire, Snape said, his voice clear and loud, "Godric's Hollow, Harry Potter's Residence!"

And in just barely a moment, he was gone.

-------------------------

The room was eerily silent.

It was getting very hard to breathe. Everyone was standing very still, all eyes fixed on Harry's cauldron.

"No," Pye murmured, eyes dilated as if in shocked. "It can't be..."

Harry's eyes were cold. "What do you mean, it can't be? It seems perfectly clear to me, Pye."

Pye raised his head, and met Harry's eyes. "What?"

"You set this up, knowing that I'd lose," Harry sneered. "This was no fair game. The potion you got me to make was an actually an antidote, except you took out one important ingredient, didn't you?"

Pye turned angry, all his composure from before lost to raw shock. "You, you cheated!"

Harry smirked. "A dog's whining now that he's lost?" he mocked, before giving him a nasty look. "You know as well as I do that without the last ingredient, the antidote would induce a poisonous aroma that would automatically kill the maker, didn't you?"

Pye didn't even bat an eye. "Of course I knew!" he hissed. "I was the one who sorted the ingredients. But our contract is over, Potter, you've cheated your way to victory!"

Harry laughed. A bitter, harsh laugh. "You can't break a contract between wizards. But that's not what you're supposed to be worrying about now, is it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When you set me up like that, it's only fair that I did the same to you," Harry replied, eyes glinting viciously.

Pye looked as if Harry had physically slapped him across the face. "Bullocks! I made the elixir to induce euphoria perfectly!"

Harry grinned. "Elixir to induce euphoria? What you were supposed to make was a Felix Felicis."

Pye stumbled backward, looking as Harry as if he'd just seen him for the first time. _No, it's not possible. To make a Felix Felicis, I'll need six months before adding the final..._

Horrified, Pye now stared down at his cauldron, with the brown liquid bubbling and threatening to spill over.

"Considering what an amazing potion maker you are, Pye, I'm sure there's no need for me to explain what'll happen if you fail to make a Felix Felicis correctly," Harry said triumphantly, before turning to Draco.

All the colors drained from his face.

"Draco!"

Crabbe was pushed violently aside as Harry rushed over and pulled Draco into his arms. The blond felt like he was burning up. _Oh fuck, how on earth could I not notice it_? Harry thought, feeling stupid.

"What the hell happened?" Harry snapped at Crabbe, who was still surprised at what Draco had said before he passed out.

"I don't know. He suddenly fainted," Crabbe stammered.

"Boss!" Goyle said sharply, noticing that Pye was subtly trying to escape through a door that had been hidden by a sliding bookshelf.

Harry turned around. Pye was smiling. "Good luck, Potter. I'll give Draco to you, and the hundred million as promised, but rest assured, this is not over yet."

And he disappeared, his laugher ringing high in the room.

"The potion is spreading, boss," Goyle said urgently, eyes on the messed up Felix Felicis, which was quickly spilling and consuming the floor. It gave off a foul, sharp odor that made them feel dizzy.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said, cradling Draco in his arms. "Goyle, did you finish taking apart the magic here?"

Goyle nodded.

"Good, then let's go," Harry said, and with a grim look, Disapparated.

Crabbe and Goyle, after giving one another a knowing look, followed.

-------------------------

They were very lucky to find Snape already at Harry's house by the time they returned. Harry didn't bother to ask how he got inside. He was just glad the potion master was there to help Draco.

Two hours later, after Harry had sent Crabbe and Goyle out on some urgent business concerning the firm, he was sitting in the living room, head in his hands.

And that was how Snape found him, after he'd finished tending to Draco.

"Potter," Snape said, sitting down on the opposite side of Harry.

"Augustus Pye," Harry said, his voice barely contained. "I'm going to fuck him up and kill him."

When Harry looked at Snape, the man had no trouble believing him.

"What happened?"

Harry leaned back against the couch, sighing in frustration. After a moment, Harry told Severus everything that had happened, from Draco's reactions to Pye's confession, and the challenge that he'd won, and how they'd all escaped death in the nick of time.

Snape was slightly impressed. "Well, at least you got yourself one million dollars."

Harry glared at him. "Are you trying to make a joke?"

Snape shrugged. "You got out alive, if anything. Messing up the Felix Felicis like that, you're lucky you escaped with your sanity intact."

"I know." Harry gave a small, humorless grin. Snape could tell he was pissed off. "Bugger, this is so fucked up. How could Pye have done that? Draco was only sixteen, for god's sake."

Snape looked at his hands. "There are things in life that'll make people do crazy things."

Harry glanced at him. "Speaking from experience?"

Snape looked at him wryly. "You have no tact, do you?" Harry shrugged. "No matter. What I'm most curious about is, how did you know there was one ingredient missing, and then proceeded to make it perfectly, to boot?"

"What, do you doubt in my ability to overcome obstacles?" Harry feigned hurt.

"I doubt in your ability to recognize a potion and cleverly fix it to save your life," Snape replied honestly. Harry gave him a sullen look. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. I was your teacher for seven years and one of the medics in your faction during the war."

"You really know how to boost a person's self-esteem, don't you?" Harry commented sulkily before falling back into his memory of the challenge. "I'm not quite sure how I knew. It was all sort of strange. I thought the ingredients looked familiar, since I brewed a lot of antidotes during the war, so I figured, what the hell. Half way through the potion, I suddenly felt odd, like someone was performing a Legilimency spell on me, but different." Harry added hastily, seeing the look on Snape's face.

"It was more like, putting thoughts into my mind. At first I was reluctant to listen, but then, those thoughts became images that showed me what to do next with the potion. And you can pretty much guess, I followed its advice."

"But what about the missing ingredient?" Snape interjected.

"Oh yeah, that was strange, too. In the last stage, I heard a voice in my head." Harry frowned when Snape snorted. "It was odd. I could've sworn it was Draco's." They both looked at each other in silence.

Then Harry shook his head. "It said that there was something wrong with the items on the table. And I freaked because the voice disappeared, and the last clue I got was this image with a hand throwing a mandrake's root into the cauldron."

Snape took an intake of breath. "Mandrake's root is the most effective plant to neutralize any potion."

"Yeah, so basically, I didn't make an antidote."

"What you did was turning the whole potion into distilled water," Snape finished, very impressed. "Now don't you wish that voice was in your head when you took the N.E.W.T.s for Potions?"

"Shut up, Snape, your jokes are so lame."

Snape grudgingly fell quiet.

"Now all I want to know is what to do with Draco," Harry said with a sigh.

"What do you mean?"

"You heard what I've told you. The fucking experiment really messed up his body and ability to grow like a normal person. Fuck, this definitely explains why he looks like a sixteen years old boy."

"I guess we have to find a way to reverse the effects," Snape said casually. Harry stared at him. "What?"

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Snape tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think I can ease some of the side effects you've told me about Draco's condition. I'm not sure; I have to check first and I'll come by tomorrow to let you know."

Harry nodded. Snape was suddenly struck by how tired he looked. It was startling for a twenty-two years old to look like that. Unexpectedly Snape felt a hint of worry for the young man.

"There's something I want to speak to you about, Potter," Snape said, reluctantly. He had thought of not telling Harry, but considering the man's past and the problems he'd dealt with, Snape figured it'd be best to be blunt with him.

"How come I have the feeling that I won't like what you're about to tell me?" Harry said cautiously.

Snape couldn't help but smirked. "Because you won't." On a more serious note, he continued, "After you left I went to the Ministry of Magic, and checked with Kingsley. We managed to dig up some old files on Pye, like his background, which I explained to you earlier, and then, more recent things."

"Recent things?"

Snape nodded, producing from his cloak a thick envelope. "You mentioned to me earlier that Draco was part of a research to stop human's aging process. Well, it turns out, their research is not only focusing on that."

Harry opened the file and went through the documents, eyes wide as he flipped through them. By the time he finished, Harry was sitting up straight in his seat. "Impossible," he said incredulously.

"Very possible, actually, if you think about it on a level of chemistry and magic," Snape corrected. "It appears that Pye and a secret organization in the Muggle government are experimenting on human cloning."

"But that's..."

"Illegal, yes, but what' more illegal, is that Pye is secretly using magic to correct the problems in the process. And if this leaks out, the wizarding world will be in grave danger."

Harry stared at him. Snape, now completely solemn, continued, "They're making clones that won't age, Potter, and they're selling them to the underground businesses, in industries that are quite illegal and unethical."

"You don't mean...?"

"Exactly. The sex industry, and everything that's involved with it."

Harry was stumped. The words sounded oddly surreal in his ears. It wasn't that Harry was unfamiliar with the idea of prostitution and such, owning a somewhat shady business himself, but there was magic involved! Not to mention, the Muggle government was a part of it. This was all just too much information to process all at once...

"But how did you," Harry said blankly, "How did you get this sort of information?"

"Apparently the Ministry of Magic got lead on some suspicious activity around London a while ago, and sent Kingsley and his men to investigate. When Pye's name came up on a Muggle's case file, they looked into it, and got a spy inside the institute."

"A _spy_?"

"He's dead, though," Snape said grimly. "Although, he did manage to send some valuable information to the Ministry of Magic before he was caught. But the thing is, we don't have any concrete proof." Now Snape was leaning toward Harry, his expression deadly serious. "This is why I'm worried about Draco."

"Draco?" Harry asked. "What's he got -" And then it hit him. "Draco... Draco was one of the guinea pigs... he must know something!"

Snape nodded, pleased Harry had caught on. "And I think that's why Pye wants to get Draco back so desperately. He must know something.

"Something that will put their organization in jeopardy."

------------------------------  
**To Be Continued...  
****Chapter 5 - Breaking Point  
**------------------------------

**A/N**: Many, _many_ thanks and flowers to _CuriousDreamWeaver_, who is, for lack of better words, Just Simply Amazing.

And thanks to everyone who have been patient with this story and its slow updates. You truly make my day.


	6. Chapter 5: Breaking Point

---------------------------------------------

**Chapter 5 - Breaking Point**

---------------------------------------------

Draco knew he was dreaming. The darkness did not surround him, and the images before him were too black and white to be real. He spent a moment wondering where he might be, before he felt the ground beneath his feet and found himself standing in a long corridor.

At that very moment, there were suddenly handcuffs around his wrists, and two men standing on either side of him. He walked, his bare feet soundless across the cold floor. He couldn't feel the cold, but he just knew, like a memory ingrained in his mind.

Draco, unnerved, tried to turn and leave, but he quickly discovered that he couldn't. His body moved forward on its own accord no matter how hard he tried to resist. The moment he realized that, he found himself in front of a door. One man stepped forward and conducted an electronic body scan. The door slid open.

Draco stepped inside the room, chains clattering against the floor. Despite the highly polished exterior, the room proved to be less inviting. Indeed, it resembled a prison cell, with stone walls and a flat ceiling. A simple wooden table was set aside in the corner along with a chair, and a small bed was placed on the opposite side of the room.

His dreaming self trembled slightly as he gazed at the man lying on the bed, ankles and wrists shackled by long, heavy chains linked to the wall. The man wore a simple shirt and pants, the garment so white against his skin that he looked dead. Indeed, he might well be dead, for his eyes were devoid of emotions, his face scarred, hair thinning, lips dry and blue. One of his ears was missing, along with two of the fingers on his right hand, and Draco observed that a slab of skin from the man's neck was missing, the colorful skin tissue desperately trying to rebuild itself.

It took a while for his conscious self to realize that the man lying on the bed was his own father, Lucius Malfoy.

He barely knew how to react to this knowledge when his dream self sat down on the bed and took his father's hand, stroking the rough skin. Draco noticed that the skin there was also scarred, clumsily healing.

It was this moment that Draco could hear voices, echoing and breaking the eerie silence.

"Father," his dream self said, voice shaking. "Can you hear me?"

Draco was almost certain that his father would not respond, when Lucius opened his eyes, the movement seeming as if it took all his effort to do. "Draco," he croaked. Draco almost didn't recognize his voice.

"I'm here, father," he said, wiping the wispy strands of hair out of Lucius' face. "How are you?"

Lucius gripped his son's hand with his own handicapped one. His dream self bit his lip as emotions swelled in his eyes. "I'm dying, Draco," Lucius said hoarsely. "I'm dying."

Draco shook his head. "No you're not, you're fine ─"

"Listen, listen Draco," Lucius interrupted, "you must escape. I cannot carry on any longer, you must save yourself, Draco. Escape ─"

The two men, upon hearing such words, made their way toward Draco.

Lucius pulled Draco down, pressing his mouth against Draco's ear and whispering two words as the men clamped their hands around Draco's arms.

"Father, father," Draco sobbed as he struggled uselessly against the men's strong hold. Lucius' hand fell from his, yet he stared at Draco and told him to escape, escape, escape over and over again.

Then Lucius was given a shot in the arm. The man went limp before closing his eyes. Upon seeing this, Draco began to scream and thrash in earnest. The men pulled him out of the room, but he cried and yelled for his father as he dug his heels into the floor and reached for him.

The scream echoed loudly in the room, all the way out to the dark corridor, until the door slid close and Draco realized that he was screaming himself awake, the words his father had whispered ringing in his ears.

_Harry Potter_.

---------------------------------------------

The bedroom door burst open as a flustered Harry Potter rushed in, wand in hand.

His eyes darted around the room warily as he strode swiftly toward the bed. "Draco, Draco, wake up," Harry called him gently, shaking his shoulders. Draco, feeling the touch, started and grabbed Harry's hands as his eyes shot open.

"No," he whispered, eyes wide and glassy in panic. Harry noted with alarm that they were filled with unshed tears.

Harry sat down on the bed, figuring that with his hands held so tightly by Draco's small ones he might as well make himself comfortable. It didn't seem like he was going anywhere soon, anyway.

And he didn't want to. Harry bit his lip. The anguish in Draco's soft features was, for some unfathomable reason, making his heart ache.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, shifting closer to the blond.

Draco blinked, looking like a lost puppy as he gazed at Harry. "Harry?" he asked dazedly, his hands loosening around Harry's.

"I'm here," Harry was surprised for a second at how tenderly he was speaking. He couldn't remember a time when he'd spoken kindly to anyone. This thought disturbed him slightly. "You alright?"

Draco's lips trembled, and in the next instance Harry found himself gathering the blond into his arms. Draco sobbed into his chest, the tremors wracking his delicate body. Harry waited until his tears had abated before pulling away a little. He pushed Draco's dampened hair away from his flushed face.

"Draco, are you okay?" he asked again, the worry he felt creeping into his voice.

Draco shook his head tiredly, body swaying. Harry hastily positioned him back onto the bed, tucking the blanket around him.

"Father…" Draco murmured sleepily, eyes already closing as sleep quickly reclaimed him.

Harry froze upon hearing the word. He wanted to question Draco, but the blond was already fast asleep.

Harry sighed. There went another piece of the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy. To be honest, the curiosity about the Draco's past was killing him. He was not patient, and he did not enjoy seeking answers, did not enjoy trying to solve enigmas.

However, it seemed like that was exactly what he was going to do if he wanted to find out anything about Draco.

Shaking his head, Harry stood up to leave. It came as a surprise when he realized that Draco had firmly taken one of his hands and was, from the looks of thing, not letting go anytime soon.

Harry smiled. The blond was fast asleep. He looked so young and defenseless that it almost hurt to look at him.

"What are you doing to me, Draco?" Harry said softly, before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to keep his distance.

---------------------------------------------

The phone ringing woke him up.

Cursing and hissing under his breath Harry blindly grabbed the phone on the bed stand next to him, already imagining a thousand ways to kill the caller.

"Potter's speaking," Harry growled into the phone, glancing over to Draco to see him still sound asleep. His irritation ebbed away a little at the serene image.

"Harry," a soft, high voice from the other line spoke breathlessly.

Harry's eyes widened. He quickly got off the bed. "Hermione?"

"I hope I haven't interrupted anything." She sounded smug and happy. Harry suddenly realized how much he missed her voice.

"No, no. Do you need something?"

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to tell you that we're all coming back to England tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? I thought you were going to be gone until New Year." Harry glanced at the clock. 7:00 AM. Hermione must have forgotten about the time difference.

"Yes, but Hawaii doesn't agree with Ron, it seems. He wants to be home with Molly for New Year, and so do the kids. It works out for the best, actually. I have some unfinished business at the Ministry to take care of."

"Working on holidays? Somehow I'm not surprised." Harry moved to the window and leaned back against the curtained glass. From where he was he could see Draco perfectly. His blond hair splayed across the white pillow like strands of silk. Harry thought of how it felt underneath his fingers and itched to run his hand through Draco's hair.

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly pleased about it. But work is work." She sounded annoyed, but Harry knew she loved her job more than anything.

"Being an Unspeakable sure is tough, huh?"

There was a pause. "It's not bad." The tone of her voice carried finality in it. Harry didn't pursue the topic.

"I guess if that's all, then I'll see you when you get back," Harry said, smiling when Draco stirred in his bed.

"Alright, Harry. I'll see you the day after tomorrow, dinner, at my house. Ron won't be home. And you better look well, or else."

Harry laughed and walked toward the waking Draco. "I always do. I'll see you soon, Hermione."

"Right. Love you, Harry. Take care."

"Love you too, 'Mione. Say hi to the kids for me."

"I will. Bye."

Harry hung up, dropping the phone on the table as Draco opened his eyes.

"Good morning," Harry said good-naturedly.

Draco, still affected by the sleep, blinked at him confusedly. "Harry?" he said softly.

"How're you feeling?" Harry asked gently, touching his forehead. It was cool. "You were burning up yesterday."

"I feel fine," Draco replied politely, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Harry moved to help him. "What happened?"

It took Harry a while to realize what Draco was talking about. "Don't remember yesterday, huh?" Harry said. Draco shook his head ruefully. "Well, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I won." Harry grinned when Draco's face lighted up. "You'll be living with me from now on, if you want," Harry added.

"I'd like that," he said shyly, smiling at Harry endearingly. Illicit thoughts ran through Harry's mind.

_Shit, is he trying to kill me_? Harry thought, feeling very warm. The shirt Harry had lent Draco was sliding off his shoulders, being at least two sizes larger, and since Harry didn't have any pants that fit Draco, the blond was currently unclothed waist down (but he did have some underwear on, thank god).

_Don't think about it_, Harry told himself firmly, but his body resisted this in very obvious ways.

"Come on, let's get you ready and we'll go shopping today," Harry said, standing up and facing away from Draco. The boner in his pants couldn't be any more apparent. _Deep breaths, Harry, you don't want to freak him out_.

When that didn't work, Harry figured he should just leave. "I'll go make some breakfast. Come out when you're ready." With that said, Harry marched out of the bed room, trying hard not to look at Draco in his physical state of being.

Draco cocked his head, watching Harry impassively as the man disappeared behind the doorway.

---------------------------------------------

Severus knocked on the door once and entered the house. It hadn't changed much since the war, except some paintings had been torn down and the place was completely empty saved for two. Severus walked upstairs, wincing at the creaking steps. It was too quiet, and too easy to hear the sound of his existence.

When he came to an old doorway, worn out by time despite the meticulous care it obviously received, Severus knocked and entered.

The room appeared to be a bedroom. It felt cozy and looked simple, with just a regular size bed and an old fireplace, along with a few furniture pieces.

Frowning, Severus moved over to the fireplace and took out his wand. With a few carefully chosen words he managed to light up the room with a warm fire.

"Where on earth is that house elf, leaving the room unattended like this?" Severus muttered, picking up a shirt lying on the floor.

It was at this moment that the door opened once again, admitting a familiar figure into the occupied room.

"Severus, is that you?"

Severus froze in his ministration. "Good afternoon, Remus," he replied and swiftly came over to Remus' side. "Let me help you sit down."

At this Remus gave a wry grin. "I'm blind, not incapable, you know." But he let Severus lead him to the chair in front of the fireplace, anyway.

Years after the war found Remus in a healthier state, despite his old and new wounds. Although his lycanthropy was not affecting him as seriously as it had before, he now had to deal with a more physical problem, being that he was blind.

This had proven to be difficult to cope with, despite his other sharpened senses. But at least now, Remus was not alone.

"Did you eat?" Severus asked sternly, spreading a blanket over Remus' legs for extra warmth and comfort. "Where is Winky when you need her?"

Remus chuckled. "She's off on some domestic errands for me, so don't sound so vicious. You don't want to scare her off again, do you?"

Severus just narrowed his eyes. "Is it my fault if she is not performing her job to the best of her ability? Besides, all I did was reminding her of her priorities."

"As well as frightening the poor creature to tears," Remus added lightly. "If you must insist on treating her so badly, then I am forced to tell you that it was I who ushered her out of the house in order to have some solitude. After your last visit, Winky has been so edgy that she has taken liberty to follow me around constantly in order to 'perform her job to the best of her ability'."

Severus wasn't sure if he should be pleased or annoyed by this new piece of information, so he opted to change the subject. "I actually have a purpose in coming here today." When all Remus did in acknowledgement to his statement was tilting his head slightly, Severus continued, "Do you by any chance remember a man named Augustus Pye?"

Remus blinked his eyes and stared at Severus inadvertently. "Pye? His name rings a bell, yes."

Severus wondered how he should present the story, and finally decided that he didn't know how to water it down. "He is the CEO of a Muggle research lab, although he is a wizard. I looked him up the other day and recovered some files regarding his past."

Remus nodded to indicate that he was listening. Severus took a deep breath. "I think Harry's in danger."

Remus tensed. Severus winced at that. It had been years since Harry had been in danger, and god knew what sort of troubles both he and Remus went through last time those words were uttered.

"Severus," Remus said slowly. "Tell me, does this have something to do with the Malfoys?"

---------------------------------------------

"Harry!"

Harry winced upon hearing his name.

"Chloe," he said, a frown forming on his face. A cheerful woman was coming toward him, her colorful and bright outfit glaring almost offensively at anyone looking.

"It's so rare to see you visiting my humble home," Chloe gushed adoringly, squeezing Harry in an invasive hug.

The man quickly pushed her away, and none too gently. "Get away from me," Harry growled.

The woman was undeterred. "How cold," she commented with a pout. "And to think, I was kind enough to be your personal dresser for the past…"

"Shut up," Harry snapped. The woman just didn't know when to stay quiet. "I have a favor to ask you today."

Chloe's eyes gleamed gleefully. "Oh ho, a favor, eh? You do know what I ask for in return, don't you?"

Harry glared her down. Chloe pouted. "Oh fine, but you can't blame a gal for trying."

Harry turned around and took Draco by the hand, smiling reassuringly. Draco, for his part, managed to return Harry's smile with one of his own. Truthfully, Draco did not feel very comfortable being in an unfamiliar environment. It made him jittery and nervous, not knowing what to expect, not knowing for certain where he was…

Harry squeezed Draco's hand kindly, easing his rising anxiety. "This is Chloe," Harry introduced, steering Draco to his side. Then he turned to Chloe. "This is Draco," his words were accompanied by a glare that clearly conveyed death threats should Chloe dare to do anything out of line.

The woman brushed aside Harry's visual threat and squealed upon seeing Draco. "Oh, my god, aren't you adorable!"

Alarmed at her open friendliness, Draco took a step back.

"Chloe," Harry warned.

Chloe frowned, ignoring Harry. "Hello Draco," she said kindly, sensing Draco's discomfort. "I'm Chloe Bell, a clothing designer." Bravely, she held out her hand.

Draco stared at it for a while, and then tentatively took the offered hand. Chloe smiled widely and ushered him inside into her personal shop. Harry followed when Draco turned and looked at him uncertainly.

"I need you to fashion a wardrobe for him," Harry said as they entered a beautiful, but simple room filled with light. Racks of clothes lined in rows and columns, divided by colors, seasons, and gender. Against the wall stood an enormous shelf full of accessories and on the other three walls were shelves stacked with shoes.

Chloe beamed happily. "It's been so long since I've had the pleasure of dressing someone so gorgeous. Oh, Draco, you are going to _shine_." To Harry she said, "Bugger off, Harry!"

Harry looked as if he had something to say, but he grudgingly sat down on a chair in front of the dressing room and watched Chloe throwing heap after heap of clothes into Draco's arms.

Five hours later, Chloe was beaming. "I'll have all your clothes delivered by next week, okay? Meanwhile, please make do with the stuff I managed to find on such short notice." Here she looked meaningfully at Harry, blaming him for putting her up to such an important task on such short notice.

"No, they're wonderful," Draco said hastily. "Thank you."

"Oh, you're such a darling," Chloe said. "Now that we're finished, Harry, you want to explain to me your sudden and homosexual, if not rather pedophilic, interest in such a bright young boy."

"Shut up, you transvestite," Harry glowered at her. "He's my age."

Not only did Chloe look shocked, but so did Draco.

"You're twenty two?"

"You're not a woman?"

They stared at each other a long while before Chloe burst out laughing. Draco gave a smile of his own.

"No Draco, I'm not a woman, but I am flattered that you thought so. Harry was never as kind." She gave Harry a mocked frown. "Although please don't tell anyone. It has always been such a misfortune to me that I was born into the wrong body."

Harry grumbled something that made Chloe glare at him. "F.Y.I., I like dressing like a woman. You're just jealous because you can't pull it off, macho man."

Draco giggled, which effectively stopped Harry from physically attacking Chloe. "Let's go get something to eat, Draco, then I'll have Crabbe take you home."

Draco nodded. "Bye, Chloe," Draco said.

"Bye, Draco. It was fun seeing you." After a brief pause, Chloe pulled Draco's hand and dropped a card there. "This is my business card. As a side job I run a small host club down town. If you ever get bored of him, come."

Harry snatched the card away from Draco. "Stay away from him!"

Chloe tsk-ed but grinned widely. "Good bye, darling! I'll be visiting you soon!"

Draco waved at her but Harry had already pulled him out of the door.

"I'm sorry if that creep scared you," Harry said, trying to keep the frown off his face.

"No, she was very nice." Draco smiled and Harry's heart melted. "I really like her."

Harry just grumbled in reply.

---------------------------------------------

Severus came over the next night to visit, but Harry was not home yet.

He was surprised to see Draco opening the door for him. Draco didn't look any better. He was, however, not chucking anything at Severus' head, for which the man was grateful for.

"Good evening, Draco," Severus said pleasantly, knowing how cautious Draco was around strangers, even if he wasn't, technically, stranger.

"Hello," Draco said, staring wide-eyed at him.

After a while Severus asked, "May I come in?"

Draco moved out of the door to let Severus in. "Thank you."

"Harry's not home yet," Draco said.

"That is fine," Severus said, walking into the living room and sitting down. "I want to talk to you, anyway." He took out his wand and waved it once. A teapot, along with two companioning cups, materialized. "Tea?"

Draco looked fascinated as he took a seat opposite of Severus. "Please."

After they had both enjoyed their cup of hot tea, Severus gave Draco a slow, long look. "May I ask you a few questions?"

Draco looked reluctant, but he nodded. "I am not going to hurt you," Severus said dryly. "Don't be so wary, my dear boy, I used to be your teacher, after all." _And your godfather_, he wanted to say, but he knew that now was not the time. Draco had enough to adjust with without having another thing to worry about.

"Really?" Draco's eyes lighted up. "Harry told me we went to the same school together and learned magic. Did you teach us magic?"

"I taught you Potions for five years, before you disappeared," Severus replied. "Which leads me to my question, what exactly do you remember, Draco?"

"My parents." Something flickered in Draco's eyes, but in a moment it was gone.

"Do you remember Hogwarts at all?"

Draco thought about it, and shook his head. "It's a school of magic, isn't it?" As a second thought, Draco asked hopefully, "Can I do magic, too?"

Severus gave a deep frown. Draco didn't seem to remember anything that would trigger his memory of magic. "Of course. You were one of my best students. One of my best Potion maker." Then, quietly, "If you had not vanished during fifth year, I would have taken you on as my apprentice."

Draco was silent. He looked at his hands in wonderment, trying hard to remember things that he had no recollection of, things that couldn't have happened to him. He had never been able to do magic, he knew that. It was not possible, but Harry had done it, silently, and so did Goyle and Crabbe. He, however, seemed to have exhibited no magical ability.

Severus, as if hearing Draco's thoughts, said, "To cast spells, you require a wand. Perhaps I should bring you on a trip to Diagon Alley to purchase one."

Draco looked at him eagerly. Severus almost smiled. "Then that is set. I shall speak to Harry, and then we shall leave for Ollivander, the wand shop," Severus added, seeing Draco's confusion.

"Um," Draco eyed him questioningly.

"You can call me Severus."

"Severus, do you..." The words seemed to be stuck in his throat, but Draco forced them out in a rush. "Do you know my parents?"

It was not what he was expecting. Severus cleared his throat and answered, "Yes, I did. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy."

"Can you... could you tell me about them?"

Severus smiled. "What do you want to know?"

At that Draco's face lit up. For next hour they sat and talked about a past Draco didn't remember. Draco listened in rapture as Severus recounted Lucius' days in Hogwarts, as Severus spoke about Narcissa crying about her body getting a bit bigger during her months of pregnancy and how Lucius had been more supportive than anyone had ever thought, believed, he would – _could_ be.

Around ten o'clock Harry came back home, talking angrily into the phone.

"There is nothing else to do. She signed the papers. It's completely legal and fuck if she's going to back out now. Send a few men down to make sure she doesn't run. You know the drill. I want this done by the time I get to the office tomorrow."

Harry snapped his phone shut and glared at it like he was hoping it would go off in flame. Severus and Draco exchanged a look before Severus spoke up.

"Welcome home, Mr. Potter."

Harry turned to them as if they had just Apparated into his living room. "Severus." His eyes softened when he saw Draco. "Hey."

Draco smiled. "Hey."

"How was your day?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Draco.

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It was fine," Severus interrupted, despite knowing that the question was not directed at him. In return, Harry gave him a look full of daggers.

"I need to speak to you," Severus said as if oblivious to Harry's desire to be alone with Draco. "Now."

Harry looked as if he might argue, but Severus quelled that thought with a hard stare. Eventually Harry caved in. "Draco, do you mind?"

Draco shook his head. "I'll be in my room."

"This better be good," Harry said as soon as he heard the door to Draco's room close.

"I visited Remus today," Severus began.

"How is he?" Harry interrupted. Severus would have felt annoyed, but the worry on Harry's face mollified him.

"He's fine. Maybe if you just visit him, you won't be inquiring after his health every time I bring him up," Severus said. The lack of venom in his voice made Harry's stomach curl with guilt.

Harry pushed the feeling away. "So, why did you visit him?"

"Recall that Remus was a part of the werewolf pack during the war to spy for the Order."

Harry nodded, worry bubbling inside him. "I remember Dumbledore mentioning that was the reason Remus had access to many Dark Wizards' profiles, but what's that got to do with anything?"

Severus set his tea down and crossed his arms patiently. "I brought up the Pye problem with him, and he recognized the name." Severus paused for a second. If he believed that would heighten the sense of suspense, Harry thought wryly, then he was correct.

"Apparently, there's a very crucial reason why Draco was Pye's captive." Harry sat up on the edge of his seat, full of attention. "Our theory was correct: Pye's parents _were_ murdered by Lucius Malfoy."

They both shared a knowing, serious look. The idea made sense. "So Pye took revenge by taking Draco," Harry surmised.

Severus shook his head. "Not quite. Pye was with his parents the night of the murder, but he disappeared afterward for half a year. Draco was taken out of school after fifth year because his father, by then, was identified as a Death Eater. I believe he was concerned for Draco's welfare, and therefore pulled him out of Hogwarts. Half a year later, around the time that Pye reappeared in England, this time as a rising scientist, Lucius defied the Dark Lord and disappeared along with his wife and son."

Harry's heart was beating quickly, mind racing to piece the information together. "So you're saying that Pye took them away? But how? If Lucius betrayed Voldemort then he must have packed up and run before anything could've happened–"

Severus nodded. "Or perhaps that was what we were led to believe." Harry raised a questioning eyebrow. "Remus told me that around that time, Lucius was acting very strange, as if he'd given up. Knowing Lucius, that's not possible."

"So what –?"

"My theory is that Lucius was under the Imperius. He had failed the Dark Lord at retrieving the prophecy, and from what I saw, he was determined to get back into the Dark Lord's good grace. Betraying him was not a strategic move to gain his trust."

Severus sipped his tea slowly, frowning at its lukewarm state. After he spelled the tea hot, he continued, "I believe that Pye had somehow gotten a hold of Lucius and used the Imperius Curse on him, so that after he betrayed the Dark Lord, it would not seem suspicious if he disappeared."

"People would assume that he'd fled from Voldemort's wrath," Harry concluded, nodding slowly. It made perfect sense. "And once he got Lucius, coming after his family was a piece of cake." Harry leaned back against the couch. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Well put," Severus commented. "But here's the thing, Harry. I don't think Pye's only after Draco."

"What do you mean?"

Severus took a deep breath, Remus's words echoing in his head. "He seems to be after you, as well."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "Me?"

Severus retrieved a manila folder from the folds of his cloak. Harry briefly wondered how many things the man had tucked underneath his clothing. "Here's what I was able to dig up from his past, and what little else the Ministry managed to gather from the spy."

Harry flipped through the folder, eyes widening and then narrowing as he took in the information. "Are you serious?" Harry managed through his shock and fury after he was finished.

"Well, you can't blame him for thinking so, can you?" Severus said wryly. "You haven't exactly been keeping up with your golden boy image all these years, you know."

"But that doesn't mean he can assume I'm diabolical." When Severus said nothing, Harry flushed. "_I'm not_! Look, just because my financial firm is a bit… above the law, it doesn't mean that I'll purposely break the law and use my magic to cover up my tracks. Well, not that much."

"It doesn't matter what you do," Severus interrupted dismissively. "All that matters is that Pye thinks you are powerful enough to keep the law out of your business, and perhaps powerful enough to help him with his scientific research."

"I'm not going to _help_ him –"

"I'm not saying that you are," Severus said impatiently. "Don't you see? Pye _knows_ you're not going to help him, but that doesn't mean he won't actively try to find out _how_ you've become so powerful… magically."

Harry stared at Severus, suddenly realizing what the man was implying. Unwanted memories resurfaced in his mind, unbidden and horribly painful. Harry squashed them down and gave Severus a cool look. "He can try, at the expense of his life." His smile was nasty and deadly. "I've kept the wizarding world away from my secret for the past three years. I'm not going to let some power-hungry, mad scientist screw me over now."

Severus seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say, something Harry found disconcerting because Severus _never_ struggled when it came to words. "It might be too late," he eventually said. "He might have already gotten to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Draco." Harry looked a mixture between horrified and confused. Severus took a deep breath. "I'm saying that Pye might have placed Draco in your care as a spy."

Harry's throat constricted. He suddenly couldn't breathe, suddenly remembering the way those men had bowed to him before slithering back into the shadow the night he found Draco. Draco who had changed so entirely he was barely recognizable anymore. Draco who was delicate and sweet and sincere and so goddamned heartbreakingly gorgeous that Harry never wanted to let him go. It made sense to him, if Pye had meant for Draco to be this way so he could strip Harry off his guard, to worm his way into Harry's heart so he could break it.

Severus and Harry gave a violent start at the sudden noise, turning toward the direction of Draco's bedroom.

Draco was screaming.

---------------------------------------------

Draco was in the bathroom, collapsed with his upper body outside of the tub full of water. His fingers were scrabbling at the carpet and his neck, eyes wide as he screamed and screamed.

Harry rushed in and pulled him out of the bath, feeling the man tremble violently in his arms as he clawed at Harry's chest. "Draco, what's wrong?" Harry asked, panicked.

"Hurt," Draco whimpered, taking deep gulps of air as if it would prevent another scream from tearing out of his throat. Harry took both his hands in a hard grip and Draco moaned. "It hurts, Harry. Help…"

Harry turned and looked at Severus helplessly. "What's wrong with him?" He all but yelled.

"His body must be acting up," Severus said briskly, crouching down and taking a hold of Draco's face. He looked flushed and blank, as if he was fading away. "You told me the experiments done on him caused side-effects. I think this is one of them."

"_Pain_ is one of them?"

Severus ignored him, feeling for Draco's pulse. It wasn't just fast, it was erratic, as if his heart's pacemaker wasn't working properly. This was no normal pain. Draco needed something more than a potion.

"Where's your Calming Draught?" Severus asked, looking around the bathroom.

Harry summoned it with a wave of his hand and uncorked the vial. "Draco, swallow," Harry said, alarmed when the potion only dripped down Draco's mouth. The blond stared at him with wide eyes, pupils dilating and going transparent.

"Come now," Severus said impatiently, tilting Draco's chin back and murmuring a spell. Draco swallowed convulsively. Slowly, he quieted down and began breathing normally. "Triggered his swallow reflex," Severus explained. "Take him to bed."

Harry lifted Draco bodily into his arms and made way to his bedroom. Once he'd set Draco down, Severus took out his wand and began casting spells at Draco. Harry watched him warily, listening to his low voice forming words as if he was pressed for time, and then finally, Severus extracted a little of Draco's blood.

"I'll have some potions sent to you tomorrow morning. He'll still be in pain, but if he loses control, just give him a Calming Draught."

"Thanks, Severus," Harry said, leading him to the front door.

"No need, I'll Apparate from here," Severus said. "Take care."

Before Harry could reply, the man had already disappeared.

Harry turned back to Draco, surprised when the man reached for his hand. "Draco," Harry said, his face turning into a frown at the temperature of the held hand. "Draco, you're on fire. What the -?"

"Potter," Draco gasped, eyes wide as he took in deep, ragged breaths. Harry was utterly frozen to the spot by the way he said _Potter_, almost as if… "Potter, you have to fuck me – fuck me _now_."

-

**To be continued**

**Chapter 6 - Reversed**

-

**A/N**: Thank you so much to my awesome beta, CuriousDreamWeaver. You are doubtlessly the most reliable and patient beta I've ever known - gives you much loves -

Thank you to my readers, for putting up with me and my slow, slow updates. You guys are the best.

And because this chapter ends in a rather compromising cliffhanger, I can safely tell you that the next chapter will be out within a month time. Meanwhile, enjoy your holidays!


	7. Chapter 6: Reversed

---------------------------------------------

**Chapter 6 – Reversed**

---------------------------------------------

"_Potter, you have to fuck me - fuck me now_."

Harry froze. It would be an understatement to say Harry had been hoping for an opportunity to do such thing – more like dying for one – but now that Draco had offered, taking it had never been further from his mind.

"Draco, what the hell are you saying?" Harry choked out in shock.

The ragged breaths became shallower, sounding as if he was suffocating, but Draco kept speaking, forcefully grabbing onto Harry's hand. "Fuck me," Harry stared in alarm as the man doubled over, "Either – either fuck me, or give me the drugs. It hurts, I need it –"

This must be what Pye was talking about. Sexual frustration. But why would that cause… pain?

"I can't do that," Harry said uncertainly. "Combined with your weak mentality you could be permanently damaged if I take you by force –"

Draco gave a shout that was both from pain and exasperation. "Does this look –" He pulled off the cover, revealing a fully erect penis, " – like I don't want it?"

Harry had to take a moment to recover from his shock, and to pull his eyes away from Draco's irresistible cock. "Look," Harry said, shaking his head to throw off his confusion and bewilderment. "You're in pain, you're irrational. I'm going to give you a Calming Draught and then I think you should get some rest –"

"Oh you bloody _idiot_! How am I supposed to get some rest when I'm in fucking agony!"

Harry narrowed his eyes and snatched his hand away, realization dawning. "You're not Draco, you're… Malfoy."

"Oh well done, ten points for your excellent deduction!" Draco all but snarled. "Now just do it! You've been wanting to, anyway, here's your perfect chance!"

Harry didn't rise to the bait. The Draco he knew had disappeared, leaving the very personality of a boy he once despised in his stead. And this personality, just like before, knew just exactly how to push Harry over the edge.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Malfoy," Harry said slowly, watching Draco's expression turning into one of bewildered helplessness. "I'll give you a Sleeping Potion, so you can sleep off the pain."

"Potter," Draco said urgently, reaching for him. Harry was forced to catch him before he fell off the bed. "Are you going to torture me? Do you want me to beg before you help me? Where's your heroic save-them-all attitude?" Draco locked his gaze, and Harry found it hurt to look at him too long. Draco's pain felt like his own, except this man wasn't Draco…

Or perhaps, _this_ was the real Draco.

"_Please_." The word was so agonizingly earnest, so desperate, that it shot straight to Harry's cock. Not knowing what to do was the understatement of the year. Harry could barely comprehend the situation. But before he could get any farther than that, Draco had put his hand over the bulge in his pants and _squeezed_.

Harry would have pulled away, _he_ _would_, but that was impossible unless he wanted Draco to fall off the bed. So he did the only thing he could think of, and pushed him back into his mattress and pillows. Draco didn't relent his hold on Harry's shirt, which unavoidably resulted in Harry lying half on top of Draco.

"Fuck," Harry cursed angrily as he tried to get into some sort of appropriate position that didn't involve touching Draco in anyway. This would have been successful, of course, if Draco didn't start rubbing his palm purposefully and firmly against his erection.

"You want this." Draco's voice was soft, a whispery moan.

Harry had never heard of anyone's voice like this before, so unbelievably sensuous and seductive, better than porn or the sounds of any girl. That alone was so surprising that Harry, for a moment, forgot that he was supposed to be indignantly refusing Draco's advances.

"You _like_ it."

Harry bit his lip to refrain the inexplicable need to answer, probably in the form of incoherent pleasure, or worse, a clear affirmation. And then Draco stopped talking, which was a good thing, except now he had taken liberty to begin _moaning_ into his ear like some sort of sex slave, or… or… something.

Harry didn't have time to think much, not when Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist quite firmly and began thrusting upward, and suddenly Harry was very aware of how naked Draco was, and how hot his body felt, feverish, even, and then he came to his senses.

"Draco, you're sick," Harry said, grabbing Draco's waist to stop him from moving. "You need to sleep, and if you don't let me go right now I'll knock you out."

Draco looked at him with eyes of liquid gray, so dark and confused that it seemed like he was struggling to make sense of Harry's words through his arousal. And then he opened his mouth, and Harry nearly came undone by the words that followed.

"I'm not your Draco," he breathed, nimble fingers unzipping Harry's trousers. "Unless you want him back, but then he will feel pain worse than the Cruciatus, and you can't stop it." Harry gasped as Draco's fingers curled around his cock and pulled gently. "Except that's not true, and you _can_. But you won't."

And then the hand was gone, and Harry was looking into Draco's eyes, the same eyes of the boy he hated years ago. "You can fuck me now, and make the pain go away. Or I can give you back your Draco, and then he will hurt for a long time, and there will be nothing you can do, because you'll have driven him insane." The grin on his face was maddening. It said that he knew exactly where he had Harry, clutched in the palm of his hand, easy to control, easy to use.

The idea hammered into his brain and shattered his grip on logic. He pushed Draco down and smiled grimly when he stared up at him in alarm.

"You want a fuck?" Harry said, his voice low as he dug his nails into Draco's leg and held both his wrists in his other hand. Something dark and satisfying rose in him, intensifying when Draco gasped out in pain.

"Then you'll get one."

It only fed his fury when Draco smiled in reply.

They fumbled for a while, trying to get Harry's clothes off. It didn't seem to matter to Draco whether Harry was naked or not, the way he kept touching Harry's cock in anyway possible. It was clear, after about two minutes, that if their genitals were touching in anyway, Draco would calm down and breathe a little easier, as if it helped his pain to be so close to another man's bits. That, and how Draco kept moaning urgently for Harry to fuck him, _fuck him_, let Harry know that he was only doing it to get rid of Draco's pain, that this wasn't a romantic act, or even an act of sex, really. All Harry was doing was easing Draco's suffering in the only way he could.

That reminder made his anger ebb away just a little, and he slowed down, hands pressing Draco's shoulders to the mattress to keep him from squirming. When Draco stopped doing so and opted to stare up at Harry, wide eyed and breathing hard, Harry searched for some sort of lubricant (he had never needed it before) and got his hand on the lotion Hermione bought him for his previous birthday.

The smell of sandalwood filled the air as Harry dribbled the lotion into his hand, smearing it over his fingers, and, with one last look at Draco, gently, like he had never before, pushed a finger between his buttocks to prepare him.

The first hiss that left Draco's mouth made him pause, but it quickly turned into a quiet, encouraging moan. Harry resumed his task, carefully adding another finger when Draco began pushing back restlessly. Harry growled low in his throat and jabbed in a vicious manner, making Draco scream and glare and still. Harry was glad for it, didn't think he could bear having Draco responding to him when he didn't mean it, when it was all because of a convenient side effect of a cruel and inhuman experiment.

"Okay," Draco said, so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear him. But he did hear, so with one last thrust he retreated his fingers from inside Draco.

After slicking himself generously, Harry moved between Draco's legs and pulled them up by his thighs. If Draco was uncomfortable, he didn't show it. Instead, he wound his arms around Harry's neck and pulled him closer.

_I'm really doing this,_ was the last of Harry's thoughts before Draco pressing against him propelled him into action. With slow and deliberate movement Harry pushed inside the other man, squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation of tightness squeezing him. _God_, but Draco was all heat as he molded himself perfectly around him, and with every push Harry was reminded of it, the sort of burning that made it difficult for Harry to keep his control. It was barely doable, but finally, _Merlin's fucking balls finally_, he was completely sheathed inside Draco.

They were both breathing heavily. Harry opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Draco's face, softly flushed in the golden glow of the lamp, lips parted, brows and lashes and hair damp like he'd just run a mile. Harry didn't think he had ever seen anything or anyone, more beautiful in his life. He didn't think he had _ever_ had these thoughts while having sex before, either, and that managed to pull him back to reality, as much as Draco's husky whisper of "Do it, do it now." in his ear.

So with a firm grip on Draco's legs, Harry pulled out and pushed back in with a quick motion, did it again when Draco urged him on, touching him everywhere, his chest, his shoulders, clawing at his back when he moved a certain way, crying out when he changed his angle a little bit. Those sounds were hot and seductive; they buried him in a sort of frenzied, repetitive movements of out, in, out, in, and it could've been like sex with all the nameless women he had had before, but it wasn't, because Draco was just _so fucking_ beautiful and he was writhing under him, pulling him in so desperately and yet pushing him away with an almost pitiful confusion full of lust.

When Draco arched off the bed and clutched at Harry's shoulders tightly, Harry wrapped a hand around Draco's cock and stroked him until he was coming, coming and sobbing in relief. It was twisted, and horrifying, but Harry was still hard despite it all, and he kept moving inside Draco, soaked in that tight, wonderful heat, letting it consume him, burn him, squeeze and spasm around his member as if telling him to come, let it go, just –

"You're so easy, Potter." Harry opened his eyes long enough to see Draco's sneering face and watch his mouth move as those words came pouring out. He watched as that wicked face morphed and reformed into an expression of complete bewilderment and confusion, watched helplessly as Draco, _his_ Draco stared up at him in dawning realization. All he could do was watch, because he was coming inside him, hips jerking in short, quick jabs as his orgasm was torn out of him almost violently, like how the terrifying scream was tearing out from Draco's mouth now, a sound so heartbreaking and full of betrayal that Harry could only reply with a choked sob, drowned by the sound of Draco's pain, infinitely worse than before because now, it was he who caused it.

-

_December 28…_

The Ministry of Magic was renovated the year after Voldemort was defeated. The Department of Mystery was moved to another Level, this one entirely hidden from Ministry officials saved for the Minister and the Unspeakables. All the records from level nine were destroyed, since it was penetrated by Death Eaters and certain people with a hero complex in 1996, and subsequently Death Eaters. As it was, all of Level Nine was destroyed for the protection of the wizarding world's secrets, amongst other things.

The new and improved Dept. of Mystery was where Hermione Granger was heading right now, five hours off the plane. Ron and the kids were at home, sleeping. She had slipped away from their bed at six in the morning and five minutes later, she was dialing the code from the phone booth that would take her directly to the hall of the Dept. of Mystery.

The golden lights reflected against the glassy, blue walls and floor as she walked through an archway and stopped at a dead end. Taking out her wand, Hermione tapped the stone rhythmically and then stood back. Very suddenly, the wall melted away to reveal a room housing about a dozen people. When they saw her, they took their seat around a round, large table, growing quiet.

Once she was inside, the wall reappeared and shut them in complete seclusion.

"Glad you're back, Hermione," a dark-skinned man said with apparent relief, gesturing to the empty seat beside him.

"Glad to be back, Blaise," she replied curtly and took her seat, opening the folder that Blaise Zabini handed to her. "Any news?"

"Pye is on the move," Blaise supplied.

The man next to him nodded, saying, "We got another spy into the Institute." His shaggy, black hair fell down his shoulders as he shook his head and pushed his rectangular glasses up his nose.

"Fox?" Hermione asked. He wasn't present today.

"No, Swan. Fox's gone on vacation. The last job was a little too much for him, we're afraid."

Hermione looked at him sharply. "Swan's back? I thought he was in Bulgaria – what –" Hermione took a deep breath and straightened. "Never mind, what's he found?"

"Not much. Pye's research is still continuing. Swan's trying to find out where he keeps all his 'experiments.'"

"No luck?"

"So far, but there's some sort of commotion in their inner circle. An escapee, it seems."

"Really? Do we have a trace?"

"Not yet, but he's one of the earliest of Pye's experiments." Meaningful looks were exchanged.

Hermione nodded. "So most likely he knows many things. What's Swan proposing to do?"

"He said to give him a few days to scout out the place and find out the name of the escapee, or at least, his identification code."

" Good enough for now. Any news on his drugs and where they're going?"

"No. The last shipment was loaded for Cambodia, but the Aurors intercepted and confiscated them. We've been doing our own research on them but we still can't extract the individual ingredients."

"And since that last failed expedition, he's been lying low. Not even a hair's breath of disturbance."

Hermione rubbed her forehead tiredly. She supposed the lack of sleep was catching up with her. "I guess we should just observe at this point. The only hope we have is the person who escaped Pye. Helen, tell your team to keep trying to catalyze the drug until we find whatever the fuck that he's putting in there to make those bodies we found like that. Tyler, make sure Swan's appropriately equipped and with proper backups. I don't want the same thing to happen to him like it did our last spy. I also want another spy inside the Muggle's government. One of the higher ups is involved in a prostitution ring in London that indirectly has dealings with Pye, so he needs to be identified. Then let Kingsley know so he could arrange for the Aurors to handle his arrest."

They all nodded at her and then stood to leave. Hermione and Blaise were the last ones out. Instead of leaving like the others, they stood and waited until the wall was firmly in place, and then Blaise was tapping his wand in a new rhythm on the stone. The room that appeared this time was full of safes and documents piled up in many tall columns.

Hermione stepped inside her office and sigh, "Home, sweet home."

Blaise grinned. "How was the vacation?"

"Absolutely appalling. Ron's terribly sun burnt because he didn't like the smell of sunscreen lotion. Rose tried to hex a little boy for stealing her potions textbook. I knew it was a mistake teaching her to read too early. And then Hugo disappeared for a whole day and for some reason his Trace wasn't working. We found him later that day and discovered that Hugo can do a pretty powerful _finite incantatum_."

"But he's only two," Blaise said, pouring two cups of coffee. "Isn't that a bit early to do any spell?"

"Oh no. It was entirely wandless _and_ wordless. Thanks." Hermione accepted her cup from Blaise and sipped it slowly. "Though I wasn't surprised. He _is_ my son, after all."

Blaise was amused. "You _are_ modest."

Hermione smiled at him, pausing in the process of pulling out another stack of paperwork. "No modesty is needed when Hugo is concerned. He just read me his first word on the plane. Unspeakable, he said. Four syllables. Can you believe it?"

"So you were working on the plane then?"

"Don't worry. Everyone was sleeping and I just wanted to review what you sent me."

Blaise's expression turned serious. "Did you also look over the recent developments?"

Hermione nodded. "I must say that's one of the reasons why I came back early. And I'm glad you kept it a secret from the others, Blaise."

"I thought you might want to assess the situation first… Talk to Potter, see if he knows anything."

Hermione sighed, giving Blaise an exasperated look. "Look, Harry's not like that. He wouldn't be involved with Pye."

"It's not like he's keeping with the law, either." Blaise crossed his arms, staring back at her with equal stubbornness. "He's proven in the past few years that a few underhanded transactions aren't above his level, so forgive me if I'm a little reluctant to jump to his defense."

"I didn't say –" Hermione began, and shut her mouth. She didn't want to get into another argument about Harry. Blaise had always been up front about what he thought of him, especially with Harry's less than legal business, and she just didn't mean his financial firm. Harry kept open a few nightclubs in London that were decoys serving instead as a safe ground for criminals to discuss and handle their businesses. The only reason why Blaise hadn't been able to open a case file on Harry was because none of those dealings broke the Statue of Secrecy. Or rather, Hermione had made sure to erase all of Harry's magical traces even if he did use magic unwisely.

She _was_ only his friend, after all.

"Either way, I'd appreciate it if you keep this a secret a while longer, just until I've made sure Harry's innocent."

Blaise shrugged. "You're the boss."

"Thanks. You're a good friend," Hermione said, smiling when Blaise gave a surly huff. "Now tell me, why didn't anyone let me know Swan was back in England?"

-

The water poured down his body in a cascade of scalding heat. Harry scrubbed his face hard, trying to clean away the things he'd done, mere moments ago. His skin burned but that was nothing compared to how he was feeling, a pain that scorched him so violently it made him sick. The image wouldn't leave his head, of Draco's wide, horror-filled eyes looking up at him in disbelief and betrayal – _oh gods, he betrayed Draco – _and his voice heartbreaking as he screamed in pain. All he had been able to do was stare back, incapable of stopping when he was coming inside him, and it was disgusting and vile but it had felt so good, Draco beneath him and his skin lily-white and warm and gods he was sick sick _sick_ –

Harry turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, forcing his mind away from the memories or the nausea _really_ made him sick. Grabbing a towel and pulling it around his waist, Harry decided to go into his office today. It was established that he stayed home around the holidays, especially after the last stressful Christmas, but he didn't think he could bear to be around Draco now. He wasn't even sure if Draco wanted to see him, ever again.

No, best to stay away until this problem simmered down. Or rather, Harry simmered down. He was bombarded with multiple emotions, none of which he quite knew how to handle at the moment, and didn't want to, either. Therefore, the best plan was to ignore it.

Harry entered the bedroom and dressed quickly into a black suit and green tie. Once he was done, Harry did something he rarely did, nowadays, and Disapparated.

-

It was oddly unsettling; work had always had a way of calming him down, what with all the new accounts to bring in and the debts to call in, and that was only when Harry was handling the big bosses.

Even today, when he was out to oversee an important transaction with the Italian don, with the taste and smell of danger surrounding him like a safety blanket, Harry still couldn't be distracted. The memory of Draco kept gnawing at his mind like some sort of leech, sucking away his concentration, his sanity, his barriers. In a horrifying, brief moment, as he stood behind the warehouse watching the cargoes being loaded, Harry felt vulnerable, as if he was twelve again and everything he knew was quickly falling apart around him. That feeling of loss, of helplessness, scared him so bad he had nearly fallen to his knees.

He had pulled himself together, of course he would, because he knew that was silly. He was no longer helpless, no longer vulnerable. Here was the man who rose from being a boy manipulated by everyone he knew to a man who was so powerful that even Massimiliano, the one of the greatest mafia bosses to have ever been inducted into the lawless world, got cautious when dealing with him. No, Harry was different now. With the banishment of Voldemort came the painful realization that trust was superfluous — stupid to have in this world, a world that abandoned him, used him and spat him back out when it was done.

He had been betrayed by the magical world, the world that saved him and then showed him just exactly why. Their reason was his decision to leave the wizarding life for good.

He was nineteen when he learned that being a Gryffindor had done nothing but made him a perfect puppy in a manipulative game of politics and power. He had decided then, to hell with Gryffindor, it was high time he got in touch with his other side, the one that he tried so hard to suppress since the moment the Sorting Hat told him just who he was.

_You'd do great in Slytherin._

Well, he wasn't Slytherin, but that didn't mean he couldn't be one.

And fuck yes, he would be a great one.

Three years later, everything he worked for to achieve became more than he had ever imagined. He understood, now, how Voldemort must have felt like, holding power in his hands, craving it so desperately, the fear, the respect, the _control_ – they were so addictive. They gave him a sense of self, reassurance that he was _himself_, his own person to do as he pleased and not as others wished. The power belonged to him, and as long as he had that, he would be safe from the feelings that had once permeated his entire existence. He would be _his own_.

So when Harry found himself standing in the darkness watching his men labor, it terrified him to feel all those things again. It was even more terrifying to know that no matter how much power he had, there was no possible, conceivable way for him to rise to the surface again. This time, he had encountered a power so monstrous and inexplicable that he was helpless against its grip, trapped in its rippling presence and he knew this for certain because he, in all his glorifying and dazzling dominance, did not want to break its grip. It was scary, and foolish, but Harry knew that there was no way he could break free when the person caging him in with a power he so obliviously possessed was Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, the man who was so fucked up he might as well die and save himself from his own torments.

Draco Malfoy, who might only be playing with the strings of Harry's heart for an entirely more clandestine purpose that was most likely had nothing to do with love.

-

When Harry got back home later that night, his mood still hadn't lifted one bit. With all the willpower he had, Harry pulled himself together and entered Draco's bedroom.

For a moment the silence confused him, but with a horrible sinking feeling in his guts, Harry realized the room was empty.

A thousand scenarios crossed his mind as he searched the entire house for any trace of Draco. There didn't seem to be signs of struggling, so it was possible that Draco wasn't kidnapped. Another bout of gut-clenching feeling hit him and Harry wondered if Draco had run away. It wasn't so far fetched; anyone would've done it after what Harry'd done.

The feeling of loss overwhelmed Harry so utterly that it was minutes until Harry heard running water coming from the kitchen. Hesitantly and with trepidation, Harry moved toward the sound until he saw the light flickering in the room, expelling a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding until he saw Draco pouring himself a glass of water.

_Draco's still here. Not gone yet, oh Merlin –_

"Draco," Harry said gently, taking a step into the kitchen.

Draco's reaction to his voice was like a rabbit cornered by some sort of vicious predator. The glass in his hand dropped to the floor as he jerked around in panic. Harry thought it was his heart shattering and not the glass on the floor when he saw the way Draco was looking as him, with every muscle in his face frozen in a perfect expression of fear and his body taut with tension, ready to spring at first sign of attack.

If Harry had any doubts about what he had become to Draco before, that face confirmed them all. He was a monster in Draco's eyes.

The moment of heavy silence was broken when Draco spoke, his lips trembling from the effort, "Sorry. I'll clean this up –"

Harry moved then. "Leave it, Draco. I'll take care of –" The words died on his lips when his hand accidentally brushed against Draco, and for a moment Harry thought _he_ had died because Draco's entire body snapped backward away from him so fast the man nearly banged his head against the sink.

"S-sorry," Draco said, the word so broken and full of tears it tore something fundamental in Harry's heart.

"Draco," Harry began, wanting to say a million things to him and yet there were no words. There was nothing he could say to explain why he'd done what he'd done. There was no turning back, no way to apologize to make things right.

"Draco," Harry said again, reaching out a hand to press against Draco's forehead and ignoring the way Draco flinched. "You're burning up." This revelation was like the final crack on the lock that had held all his emotions at bay. Harry exploded. "_Fuck_, why the hell didn't you call me? Have you been like this since last night?" Without waiting for Draco to answer Harry bodily lifted him up and carried him all the way into his bedroom.

"Lie down," Harry said. "I – I'll get you something to eat and then you can take a pill or something."

Draco only stared at him wide-eyed. Well, it was better than that "you're-a-monster" face he was directing at Harry earlier.

It wasn't until Harry got into the kitchen that he realized he had no bloody clue what to do. He hadn't cooked for himself in years, and since he always worked late and ate out, had never bothered to buy groceries. In the past week that Draco had been here, they'd always eaten out so it wasn't like Harry had any reason to shop for food. Gods, he was such a mess.

Eventually, Harry took a deep breath and swallowed his pride. He had promised himself he would never let himself voluntarily touch anything that'd got to do with his past, but Draco's health was on the line, and unfortunately it seemed like there was nothing else he could do. So Harry closed his eyes and shouted, "Kreacher!"

The house-elf appeared instantly, looking slightly confused but extremely hopeful. "Master Harry!" Kreacher said in a hoarse, dreamy voice, falling on his knees in front of Harry and looking for all the world so grateful it was heartbreaking. "It is no dream. Master Harry is need his servant once more. Kreacher is so glad, so grateful –"

"Kreacher," Harry said impatiently, ignoring the conflicting memories that surfaced in his mind at the sight of his house-elf, whom he hadn't seen in three long years. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything, Master Harry," Kreacher's face was bright with excitement even if his voice held nothing but the propriety of a well behaved elf from an ancient, rich family. "Kreacher is at your service, always, always –"

"Draco's sick," Harry said, ignoring the elf's confused squeak of "Draco Malfoy?" and pointing to his kitchen. "I need you to make him something to eat so he can take his medicine. Can you do that?"

Kreacher nodded, his head bobbing so fast that for a moment Harry was afraid it would fall off his neck. He squashed down the guilt that bubbled up inside him from years of neglecting Kreacher. That seemed to be a recurring emotion in his life lately. Harry didn't like it one bit. Guilt seemed to imply that he had come to be uncertain, or worse, _regretful_ of his past choices.

He wasn't. He had made them and he stood by them, even now. It didn't matter if he abandoned a few people in the process. It wasn't as if he hadn't been abandoned before, and if he could live with it, so could they.

While Kreacher prepared a meal, Harry went to the fireplace in his living room, planning to summon Severus. It took him a moment to remember where he'd put the Floo powder. It had been so long since he'd used it, and he only had it because Hermione insisted he kept some in the house. Sometimes, he loved that girl so fucking much.

The fire rushed around him and when he opened his eyes, Harry saw Severus's lab, in Hogwarts. "Severus!" Harry shouted. It was hardly a second later when Severus appeared, looking surprised to see whose face was in the hearth of his fireplace.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" Something akin to worry flashed in his eyes. "Is it Draco? Has his condition exacerbated?"

"He's having a fever," Harry said, not wanting to elaborate. "Did you manage to come up with anything to stop the onslaught of those side-effects?"

Severus frowned. "Not completely." Harry didn't have a chance to ask because Severus was walking away, toward his working table. He grabbed three bottles of potions and returned to the fireplace. "Move aside. I'm coming."

Harry was hardly a foot away from his own fireplace when Severus came out through the green flame, brushing an invisible speck of ash off his black robe. Harry would never know how he was capable of Floo traveling without being covered in soot.

"That fireplace's never been used for Floo, has it?" Severus commented. Harry shrugged.

"Master Harry, dinner is prepared," Kreacher announced, looking very pleased with himself as he held up a tray full of food. They smelled delicious.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry said, ignoring Severus's raised eyebrow and taking the tray from the house-elf. "You can go now."

Kreacher looked absolutely crushed. That guilty feeling was making Harry's insides squirmed. "Or you can hang around. Help me clean the house?"

The elf's eyes brightened considerably before he bowed. "Of course, Master Harry." And then, for an uncharacteristic moment, Kreacher came forward and hugged Harry's leg.

"Okay, Kreacher. You're dismissed," Harry said sternly, feeling very uncomfortable with this public display of emotions, especially in front of Severus.

Once Kreacher was gone, Harry said before Severus could speak, "Not a word." Severus smirked knowingly and followed him into Draco's room.

Severus began speaking as they walked. "I did some tests on his blood sample from yesterday and compared it with the one I took earlier this week. The levels of hormones from the two samples vary in their results, leading me to chart out multiple diagrams of possibilities." Severus looked at Harry's face and sneered. "Knowing your inadequate knowledge in the art of science, I will only say that I shall be here often to observe Draco and perform tests on him to narrow down my predictions. Once I've done that, then I shall be able to begin my search for a cure."

"What are your predictions?" Harry said, standing outside Draco's bedroom.

"They're rather complicated, but it involves much of his ability, or lack thereof, to cope with stress. I just need to find out what the origin of these erratic levels of hormones. They're completely out of normal physiological thresholds, and even more so at the amount presented during time of high distress and otherwise. They also seem to be the reason for Draco's stunted growth, oddly enough…"

"Okay Severus, you're talking to yourself," Harry interrupted, halting Severus in his musing. "I'll just leave this in your hands, alright?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. That was perhaps the closest Harry had ever come to say that he trusted him. An extraordinary compliment, if Severus did say so himself. "I'm flattered," Severus drawled. "Let's go inside. Draco's waiting."

Harry nodded, but hesitated. He wanted to tell Severus what had happened last night after the man left, but he was afraid. It had been all so surreal, something intangible, a hazy memory, and putting it into words would be like creating its existence, and Harry really didn't want to go through the horrible emotions he'd felt right after he … used Draco like that.

But it was important that Severus knew there were two Dracos in that body, and Harry didn't want to leave anything that might help speed up the blonde's healing process in the shadow just for his own peace of mind. With a sigh Harry began, "Severus, you need to know, when you left yesterday, Draco began acting really strange."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."

Harry winced and took a deep breath. "He told me to fuck him." Severus's eyes widened, looking as if he were about to speak, so Harry continued quickly before he lost his nerves. "And he wasn't himself. It was like there was another person speaking, like the Malfoy I knew back at Hogwarts."

"You're telling me that there might be a chance that Draco has multiple personalities?"

"Yes, because," Harry braced himself and said through his teeth, "Because while I was fucking him he changed into another person, the one he is now."

When the silence that stretched out between them became long enough to be considered awkward, Harry took a peek at Severus. And fervently wished he hadn't. The man looked about on the verge of implosion. It was clear the Severus knew the implied consequences of Harry's actions. "Severus –"

"Do not," Severus said, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "Say a word. You did a very, very stupid thing, Potter, and I don't want to speak to you until I've made certain Draco has survived your inexplicable foolishness." With those words, Severus turned the knob and pushed the door open. Harry winced and followed him inside.

Draco was lying on the white bed, eyes closed and hair fanned out on his pillow like a golden crown. Harry's heart tightened at the sight, Severus momentarily forgotten. How could he ever have thought Draco ugly before? The man was practically an angel, or something equally lovely but less cliché. Was it because of the experiments? Had he always been this way? Harry found it mattered little what the reasons were. The Draco right now, right here, lying in a large bed that was practically overrun by pillows, was someone Harry could look at forever and never get tired. That was a true yet entirely unsettling thought, Harry realized with no less apprehension. To distract himself, Harry shook Draco gently, rousing him from his sleep.

"Draco, wake up. Your food's here."

Draco gave a little moan, and the sound brought back Harry's memories of the previous night as though he were drowning in a Pensieve. The noises Draco had made, his touches, his arousal – they all came rushing back like shadows wrapping around him. Harry was ashamed to discover that despite whatever regrets he held for taking advantage of Draco when he was most vulnerable, there was still a smaller, more insistent part of him that would give anything to have Draco writhing in his arms once again. _You're a fucking monster, Harry Potter, an immoral, heartless monster_, Harry told himself, but it did nothing to ease his desire for Draco.

However, the way Draco inched back from Harry did wither his lust a bit. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped back after placing the tray of food in front of Draco. "Eat, and then you can take some medicine. Severus is here to check up on you."

As if on cue, Severus stepped forward and pushed Harry roughly away. "How are you feeling, Draco?" Severus asked and handed Draco a spoon, ignoring the withering look Harry was sending him.

"I'm fine," Draco said. Severus had to bite back a sarcastic remark at the obvious lie. Draco's face was flushed and his hair was damp with sweat, both of which were clear signs of a high fever. He pulled out his wand and saw Draco's face morphed into a cautious expression. "I'm just going to perform some spells on your body to check your vital signs. Rest assured, it will not hurt."

Draco glanced at Harry for a second, and then, very slowly, nodded. Severus tried to give him an encouraging smile, but from the way Draco looked, he was most certainly unsuccessful. He was not surprised, however disappointed that he was in his inability to reassure his own godson. Encouragement was, clearly, not his forte.

Draco began eating while Severus cast one spell after another over him, muttering to himself and charting whatever it was he felt was important on an airborne parchment. When he saw that Draco was finished eating, he ended his examination and retrieved from his robes three vials filled with different colored potions. "This is for your fever," Severus said, uncorking the blue vial and handing it to Draco. "Drink this and you'll be fine after a nap." As Draco carried out his command, Severus placed the other bottles, one blue and one clear colored, on the nightstand. "This is a Calming Draught, reserved for when you are inflicted with pain or uneasiness. If it doesn't work, then I want you take this Dreamless Sleeping Potion. I added a heavy dosage of sopohorous beans so it should knock you out instantly. This way, you will not be compelled to do anything reckless." Here he threw Harry a nasty glare. Harry could only return the look wordlessly, not wanting to argue his case while Draco was gazing at him with those wide, cautious eyes like he was about to spontaneously attack him.

"Now," Severus said, returning his full attention to Draco. "Do you remember anything about last night, starting from the moment when you collapsed in the bathroom?"

Draco frowned for a moment. "I was taking a shower, and accidentally scratched my foot on the shower drain, and then I was in a lot of pain." Draco looked up at Severus. "I think that's when you and Harry came into the bathroom. Everything was a little hazy after that."

"Did you remember," Severus cleared his throat and told himself he was not embarrassed, and most certainly not turning red. Harry coughed lightly behind him. Oh for Merlin's sake. "Did you remember what you said to Harry after I left?"

Draco glanced at Harry again and looked away just as quickly. "No," he answered. "I think I passed out after you left, until…" Draco's silence settled among them uncomfortably, as they all understood exactly what the unspoken words were.

"Well," Severus said, deciding that a change of subject was in order. "If you could hold out your hand, I'd like to take a small sample of your blood." Draco complied. Severus tapped his arm with his wand and let the drops of blood fall into a bottle. He corked it and stood up. "I'll be back tomorrow to see you again. If you are better by then, I shall take you to Diagon Alley."

At those words Harry's eyes narrowed. "Severus, _what_ did you just say?"

Severus turned to him and spoke coolly, "We'll discuss this outside." To Draco, he said in a softer voice, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "Bye, Severus."

When the door closed behind them, Harry turned to Severus furiously. "I never gave you permission to take Draco to Diagon Alley!"

"Draco is not yours to give permission to," Severus said coldly. "He is his own person, and you have no right to keep him from knowing his heritage just because you don't want anything to do with yours."

Harry staggered back as if he was struck in the face. Not once in their relationship had they ever mentioned the reason for Harry's alienation from the wizarding world, though Severus knew it as well as the palm of his hand. Harry always figured he could count on Severus to understand his reasons, to know why Harry had to keep away from the world that had taken so much from him. But from the way he had just sniped at him, it was clear that Severus never knew him at all. The thought cut right through his heart like an open, unwavering blade. If Severus aimed to hurt, then he had succeeded.

Severus shook his head, knowing that he had overstepped his boundary. He wanted to say something to take that look off Harry's face, but he had meant every word and to say anything more would be superfluous. "I'll be here tomorrow in the afternoon to pick Draco up. Good night." Without waiting for an answer, Severus Disapparated.

Harry stood in the hallway, overwhelmed by an onslaught of warring emotions. It seemed that lately everything from the past – from the life that he had walked away – was coming back to haunt him. He hardly ever performed magic anymore, and most certainly not for the sake of another person, but ever since Draco had stumbled into his life, nothing was the same. For god's sake he summoned Kreacher, of all things!

Turning to the door, Harry put his hand on the knob and paused. Thinking about Draco made him both angry and guilty. Angry because it was Draco who came into _his_ life and turned it up side down in his oblivious, irresistible and un-fucking-believably messed up way. Angry because it was Draco who broke down the walls around his battered heart and made him love it despite his inability to trust anything Draco said because of his suspicious, forgotten past.

But he felt so fucking guilty because he'd hurt the _one_ person who made him feel like he was _anything_ but a lonely, bitter bastard in years.

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned the knob and entered the room, having absolutely no idea what the hell he was going to say – could say to make Draco look at him in any other ways than as if he was a monster ready to beat the crap out of him.

-

_Otter,_

_I'm in. Situation here is fucking weird. Hardly sees anyone, except for the receptionist, who is so robotic she might as well be Imperius-ed. Turns out that's just the way she is. Have not seen the target. The place is heavily warded, especially around the elevator. It reminds me of the office's phone booth. Will give you a detailed report in our usual spot. You know when._

_I miss you._

_Swan_

Hermione crumbled the note and incinerated it. She sat in her seat for a long time, staring at the pile of paperwork on her desk as the last three words danced before her eyes. The unbidden memories she'd tried so hard to suppress resurfaced in her mind like the rush of a tidal wave. Swan's been gone for three years, since before she became head of the Department of Mysteries. Hermione had almost hoped he'd be away forever on that mission, but sadly enough luck was not on her side.

Hermione took a deep breath and pulled out a folder. She could do this. She could face him without allowing her emotions – or his – to get in the way. She was his boss. Their relationship was a purely professional one.

It hadn't been anything else since he left England three years ago without a word.

-

_To Be Continued…_

**Chapter** **7** – Mistrust

-

**A/N**: As always, many thanks to CuriousDreamWeaver for being such an awesome beta *HUGS*

And thank you to my readers. Your comments are much appreciated and loved :)

There is something I do want to bring attention to: some of you have mentioned that my fic resembles a manga called Okane ga Nai. You guys are correct. I started this fic originally with Okane ga Nai in mind (I was addicted to it ^_^), and I thought I'd mentioned somewhere, but when I looked back I shamefully realized that I didn't. Therefore I will do it here: some of the scenes _are_ based off of the manga Okane ga Nai (if the kitchen scene in this chapter is any indication). However, the fic is nothing like the manga, and from this point onward, will have nothing to do with that manga. I'm sorry if I caused any confusion.

In the next chapter: Draco suffers some more, Hermione reveals a shocking secret, Swan makes an appearance, Harry and Hermione meet, and new characters with ambivalent intentions are introduced.


End file.
